


Who We Are Again

by cleo4u2



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Losers (2010)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Crossover, Embedded Images, Face-Fucking, Gore, Hair-pulling, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Marvel (MCU) x The Losers (2010), Minor Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soft Boys, Steve Rogers is Jake Jensen, The Hat - Freeform, Touch-Starved, all kinds of violence, because my boys will be happy even if they’re not together, but they’re dating so it’s weird pining, christmas gifts, dc x marvel, happy I tell you!, love at first blow job?, lust at first sight?, minor self-mutilation, not for the weak of stomach, regular fucking, whatever you call fucking someone after knowing them for thirty minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:23:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2
Summary: Captain America became a symbol while Steve Rogers slept in the ice. When he woke up, he had to become that symbol and leave who he was behind. After rescuing Bucky and helping the Avengers grow into their own, it's time for him to put the shield down. He leaves, creating a new identity as Jake Jensen, and getting into trouble that is all his own. Along the way he falls in love and discovers he'll always have a bad guy to fight.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> OMFG so many tags. I’m so sorry; please read them all. Only, like, four are silly. This fic has been a labor of love. It was originally just supposed to be a quick, 3k words, but it spiraled out of control. I was enabled by the long suffering Sparkly Butthole and then the incredible Lasenbyphoenix thought it was a good enough to get art! Hopefully you love it as much as I did.
> 
> Thank you to my incredible beta, [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile), who never lets me down and deals with my brain being incapable of understanding the way tense shift works some nights.
> 
> Thanks again to [Lasenbyphoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lasenby_Heathcote/profile). Your art is amazing and I can't wait for everyone to see it!

Steve Rogers took a slow, deep breath and made careful eye contact with his friends. It was time to say goodbye. The Avengers were a great team that had had a rocky beginning, but they were the only people in the future who didn’t see Captain America when they looked at Steve. Though he wished he didn’t have to leave them to move on from his own legend, it wouldn’t be possible. If he stayed, if he visited, someone would connect the dots between Steve and his new, carefully crafted, SHIELD-safe identity.

“I’m leaving,” he said, noting the surprise in some eyes as well as the ones who just smiled, like Bucky. Steve had told him the plan the night before and asked him to come with. Back before they’d died, when they were different men, they’d been in love. That was the past, but they’d taken pains to stay close. Since Natasha didn’t look surprised either, Bucky must have told her; not that Steve minded. Of all of them, Bucky deserved to be happy. 

Surprisingly, Sam and Rhodey looked like they’d been expecting the news, though Tony, Bruce, and Wanda were completely floored. Vision and Thor seemed confused, but that was Vision and Thor most of the time. God, Steve was gonna miss them.

“Where?” Tony demanded, the first to pick up his jaw off the floor.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Steve said. It was a half-truth; he was headed west, but that was a direction not a location. “If you need me, Bucky can reach me.”

“Wait,” Rhodey said, eyebrows lifting, “that sounds like you’re not coming back.”

“I’m not.” Steve took another steadying breath. “You guys are closer than family, but I can’t… I can’t be happy here. I can’t be _me_ here, not as Steve Rogers. So… I’m gonna be someone else.”

“You can’t just disappear like back in the day, Cap,” Tony said. “I can make you a new iden-”

Steve held up a hand.

“I made myself one. It’ll hold up fine.”

“What?” Tony blurted, sitting forward. “Since when do you know how to do that?”

Steve rolled his eyes as Sam came to his rescue. 

“What do you think Steve does in his free time? Knit?”

“But… you never said…”

There were dozens of reasons Steve hadn’t come to Tony for help explaining the Internet, learning programming, hacking, and a half dozen other skills. Not one was kind. It wasn’t Tony’s fault; the guy was too smart for his own good. Instead of hurting a good friend and a better man as he disappeared, Steve said, “I needed to do something for myself.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie, and while Tony frowned, he nodded slowly with understanding.

Vision asked, “And you think this identity is good enough to not be discovered?” 

“Test it,” Steve said, shrugging. “If you can find me, I need to work on it anyway.”

“But,” Wanda said slowly, her brown eyes sad, “why _can’t_ you stay?”

Internally, Steve winced. That was the one question he’d hoped no one would ask.

“Wanda, it’s not that I don’t want to stay. I just… can’t. I can’t be myself-”

“You said that,” Wanda interrupted, “but _why not_?”

Steve sighed, but she didn’t mean anything by it. She was just confused, and he couldn’t blame her.

“Because I can’t go outside without being followed. Because I can’t order coffee without it being dissected in the media. Because I left one war and joined another, and there’s been no time to… to stop. I haven’t _let_ myself stop.” Steve threw up his hands. “There are so many reasons, but I need this. I need to remember who I am, not who I want to look like in the media, or who everyone says I am.”

“Most of us still have some anonymity,” Bruce told Wanda gently. “Steve’s never had that.”

“Two weeks,” Steve corrected, “before the Battle of Manhattan. No one knew me, then.”

Wanda slowly nodded and the vice on Steve’s chest slowly relaxed. It still hurt watching her brush tears from her eyes, but there was no easy way to do this. Maybe disappearing in the middle of the night, but that wasn’t right. Everyone here had tried to help him in one way or another. The problem had boiled down to the simple fact that _legends_ weren’t _people_. The cult of celebrity was terrifying, and Steve had stopped wanting to be famous while standing in front of an Army that knew he was a fraud.

“Will we see you again?” Wanda asked quietly.

“Maybe,” Steve hedged. “I don’t think any identity could stand up to a visit to the Tower.”

“Maybe we’ll come see you, then,” she said, a spark of defiance in her eyes. “Bruce said it; we have some anonymity.”

“Some of us,” Natasha said dryly.

“Maybe,” Steve offered again. “When Bucky or Natasha think it’s safe, we can talk about it.” 

Bucky didn’t snort and Steve appreciated that. 

“This will be good for you,” Thor said loudly, having brushed aside his initial confusion. “Though for myself, I will miss my shield brother.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” Steve said, praying they believed him. As much as he needed to start over, to have space to remember who he was before war and time travel, he wished he could keep them in his life while he did. “All of you. Even you, Tony.”

Tony hiccupped a laugh and waved Steve away.

Always practical, Bruce asked, “When do you go?” 

Steve ran a hand uncomfortably through his hair. 

“I thought this would be easier than a drawn out goodbye.”

“Now?” Tony blurted.

Steve nodded once and felt the weight of the last few years fall from his shoulders.

“Now.”

\----

**Three years later.**

“You’re in the _Army_,” Bucky demanded, his tone as close to shouting as he got anymore. “Explain.”

Jake - he hadn’t been Steve in years - shrugged and adjusted the glasses he didn’t need but helped fuck with facial recognition software. He hadn’t seen Bucky since that day in the Tower. They’d kept in touch through burner phones and email accounts, but seeing Bucky in person, hearing his voice without the electronic edge, had Steve’s chest swelling with happiness.

“I got arrested-”

“Oh, of course,” Bucky said into the gloved palm he slapped against his face.

Jake ignored him.

“- and the judge said Army or jail. Naturally, I picked the Army.” Bucky was glaring at him; it felt _amazing_, and Jake couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Surprise surprise, I’m good at it.”

“St- _Jake_.”

“Really good at it,” Jake went on like he wasn’t listening. Riling up Bucky was an old pastime he had sorely missed. “I’m a Green Beret. Tech specialist.” He wiggled his fingers at Bucky. “An honest to god Corporal.”

Bucky growled. Jake’s grin brightened. 

“You look good, man.”

Scowling, Bucky pointed a fry at him. 

“You’re not getting out of this conversation.”

Jake held up his hands in surrender, but Bucky was sure to see he still smiled.

“I’m just saying! Haven’t seen you in years; I’m _just_ noting that the time’s been good to you.”

The scowl didn’t fade a fraction, but Bucky grumbled, “You, too, actually. You’re not all,” his eyes flicked over Jake, “stiff. You smile easy.”

“I’m happy,” Jake said because it was true. 

Bucky grunted.

“Explain the girl.”

“Jess?” Jake blinked in surprise, but chastened himself. This was _Bucky_. Of course he knew everything Jake had been doing since he’d left. “She’s… complicated.” 

Bucky ate a fry in response, so Jake sighed and launched into the story. 

After leaving the Avengers, he’d wandered the West Coast for a few months before getting in contact with Peggy’s granddaughter. It was just supposed to be a momentary visit, a trip down memory lane, and then he’d be off soul searching again. Of course, he hadn’t accounted for Jessica’s abusive ex, or her beautiful baby girl, or his own temper. 

Jake had taken one look at the bruises on Jess’ arm and put Todd in the hospital. That was how he’d ended up in front of a judge, but Jake hadn’t thought Todd would quit. The guy was psychotic. Jess had agreed with him so Jake had given her a new last name, new home, new job, and a new _life_ as Jake’s sister. New Hampshire was good for both Jess and Beth. Plus, Jake liked having family. 

When he finished his story, Bucky continued to stare at him and chew in silence. In retaliation, Jake stole a handful of his fries.

“Punk,” Bucky growled.

Jake’s face was going to split if he kept grinning like this.

“Missed you, too, jerk.”


	2. The feeling is mutual

Cougar hadn’t been surprised to get his latest transfer orders. It had only been a matter of time before his silence unnerved his team. He had never been talkative; people didn’t get close to him, mostly ignored him, and thought he was strange. When he’d joined the Army, he had hoped that would change, but there was no miracle. He was a natural marksman - killing came as easy as breathing - and while that put him on the fast tract to Special Ops, it had his fellow soldiers whispering that he would snap and kill them all. 

Which, sometimes, Cougar thought about doing.

He had drifted from unit to unit and now faced his last chance. Everyone knew that if you were sent to the Losers, no one else would take you. If you couldn’t cut it with them, you were out on your ass. Cougar wasn’t particularly attached to the Army, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He didn’t have any skills for civilian life. He was a marksman. He killed people; that’s what he was good at, so he’d… try to make friends with the Losers. 

Whatever that meant.

Colonel Franklin Clay opened the door to Cougar's new barracks on the Texas Army base as he reached out to knock. Cougar twitched, and not just because the unmistakable lyrics to _Party in the U.S.A._ spilled into the air around them. There had to be some surveillance on the place, though Cougar hadn’t spotted it, and the action had been intended to spook him. Cougar was annoyed that it had worked.

“Alvarez?” Colonel Clay asked. 

“Cougar,” Cougar answered and passed over his orders. The Colonel would have his own copy, but procedure was procedure… 

Only, the Colonel didn’t look at them, he folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket while smiling at Cougar. The smile was creepy.

“Welcome to The Losers, Cougar. Let me introduce you to the team.”

With Cougar's nod, the Colonel turned about and let him through the entryway enough that the Colonel could close the door. That was as far as he got. The six feet of muscle dancing in a makeshift living room stopped him in his tracks. The man with boy band blond hair was waltzing with a laptop as a partner, spinning and singing along with Miley Cyrus in a terribly tone deaf tenor.

“What?” Cougar blurted.

“That’s Jensen,” the Colonel said, and Cougar realized that creepy grin? It was a shit-eating grin. He'd been waiting to see Cougar's reaction to… whatever the fuck was happening. Cougar spent another moment watching, wondering if this was a form of hazing. Jensen was oblivious to their presence, so it seemed an odd joke if it was that. 

Colonel Clay disappeared through a doorway. Slowly shaking his head, Cougar shrugged his duffel and his rifle higher onto his shoulders, then followed into a kitchen where the last two members of the Losers were sitting about the table. One, bald and shorter than Cougar, was rubbing his temples slowly. The other was picking his nails with a knife the size of Cougar's forearm.

“This him?” the man with the knife asked.

“Yep,” Colonel Clay drawled. “Cougar, meet Pooch,” the shorter man raised a hand, but didn’t open his eyes, “and Roque, my second. Gentleman, this is Cougar, the best damn shot in the western hemisphere.”

Cougar did not preen at the compliment, but he couldn’t help the small smile that turned up his lips.

“Hi,” Pooch said with the driest voice Cougar had ever heard. Roque said nothing, but that might have been because Pooch’s hands slapped down loudly onto the circular table before he could. “Colonel, I _can’t take any more_. If you don’t get him to stop, I _will_ kill him.”

The Colonel just looked amused.

“Usually Roque breaks first,” he noted as he fished a lighter from his pocket and flicked it open and shut. The tiny _clink clink_ was in time with the pounding beat.

“I think he means it, Clay,” Roque said. Cougar wasn’t sure what to make of the complete lack of rank they were using. He wasn't sure what to make of the Losers at all.

“All right.” The lighter disappeared back into the pocket it had come from. “Come on, Pooch. Let’s save the last of your brain cells. Wouldn’t want Jolene to kill us.”

“Thank you!” Pooch shouted, surging to his feet to lead the charge.

Roque didn’t follow, he just stared at Cougar as the song changed to Britney Spears’ _Toxic_. Cougar knew a threat when he saw one and the cold look in Roque's eyes qualified. The man’s knife was impressive, his coiled body made for dealing punishment, but Cougar didn't flinch. Defusing situations without killing wasn't his speciality.

Roque broke first.

“You met Jensen?” 

Cougar nodded, though that wasn’t exactly the truth when he’d only seen the guy. Roque followed suit, albeit much slower, while weighing his next words.

“I’ll explain this once.” Cougar didn’t smile even as he realized Roque was the hardass to Clay’s fatherly leadership. “There are two rules here: One,” Roque held up a finger and tapped his knife against the tip, “follow orders. Two,” another tap, “don’t touch my knives. Do you understand?” Cougar nodded again; the rules weren’t unreasonable. “Good. Then we won’t have any issues.”

The music cut off abruptly and someone - Jensen, Cougar guessed, as he didn’t recognize the voice - shouted, “The Pooch has _no_ taste!”

Roque shook his head. Cougar wondered if he knew how fond he looked doing it. 

“Come on,” Roque got to his feet, “I’ll show you your bunk.” His smile was like the edge of his knife. “New guys room with Jensen.”

Cougar wasn’t sure what his face did, but Roque laughed as he lead the way out of the kitchen. The Colonel, Pooch, and Jensen were standing in front of a battered, squashed brown couch. Pooch was behind the Colonel, arms crossed as they faced Jensen, laptop open in the palm of one hand, both arms swinging wildly as he talked.

“Colonel, I was _working_.”

“I am aware,” the Colonel said dryly. Not one of them looked at Roque or Cougar as they passed by. 

“Really?” Pooch interjected. “‘Cause it looked like dancing to me.”

“The code was compiling!” Jensen half-shouted. Then his head snapped toward Cougar and he asked, “Who’s that?”

“Cougar,” Pooch said. “You met already.”

“We did?” Jensen looked baffled, eyebrows drawn down in confusion. 

Not sure what else to do, Cougar just looked back at him as they passed into the far hall and out of sight. A moment later, he heard the argument pick up again and sighed. This was going to take some getting used to. 

Roque dropped him off at a small room and left without a word. Cougar had never seen anything like it. One neat, perfect bed and dresser sat near the door, its clean space a dividing line from the disaster zone that had developed in the back half of the room. The only area on that side not covered in bits of electronics was the bed itself. Cougar had seen something like it only once before, when he’d helped raid a cartel stronghold. Their bomb tech’s workshop had looked _identical_ to this mess. Piles of parts on shelves, in storage compartments, and half-built projects made the place look like someone had robbed a Radio Shack. Someone with OCD, as everything was neatly organized despite there being so much of it.

Cougar wasn't going to complain, and not just because he was trying to get along. He had roomed with worse in the past. Jensen at least respected Cougar's space, keeping his mess to his own end. The room didn’t smell, which meant there was nothing rotting or spoiling anywhere. It was dust free, dirt free, just… covered in parts. 

After unpacking, Cougar stared at his space, which was barren in comparison to Jensen's. With what little he owned, it hadn’t taken him long to empty his duffle into his drawers and set his rifle in a corner, but now he was at a loss. He considered what someone _normal_ would do after joining a new unit, but gave up quickly. _He_ wasn’t _normal_.

In the end, Cougar decided on a shower remove the sweat from lugging all his things in the Texas heat. Thirty minutes later - new showers were confusing - Cougar returned to his room to find something else _decidedly_ abnormal. It was hot as there wasn’t any A.C., but that did not mean Cougar had expected to find Jensen sprawled across his bed, a fan blowing across his entire body from the foot of the bed. 

His nearly naked, _gorgeous_ body. 

Jensen wasn’t just toned and fit, like all tier-one operators. He was _cut_, his muscles plump and round, coated in a light sheen of sweat and shimmering in the room’s overhead light. Tiny, pink nipples perched on his perfect pecs. His shoulders were broad, and yet his waist was trim and tiny. The most distracting thing, however, was the way he’d pulled his legs up, each foot planted flat on the bed. They were spread wide, likely to let the air over his balls and cock, but… well… the pink boxers he wore clung and left nothing to the imagination. Jensen was _hung_. His thick cock was soft, but still bigger than any Cougar had seen. Not that Cougar had seen many. The Army wasn’t a safe place for men of his sexuality. The few encounters he’d had had ended unpleasantly. 

Which was the thought Cougar had as he realized Jensen was watching him and he had been staring for… He had _no idea_ how long he’d been staring. Something sharp flashed through Jensen’s eyes and Cougar prepared for a fight. He’d met few tier-one operators who weren't homophobic. Gays were fine, but gays in the Army? In Special Forces? In their bunk? Not so much.

But Jensen smiled and Cougar blinked. It was… beautiful, lighting up his entire face, making him look years younger. 

“If you’re gonna stare, shut the door.” Cougar blinked. “Roque threatened to cut my balls off if he saw them again.”

Cougar's hand was shutting the door before his mind caught up with the action. It closed with a thump and he stood there in a towel with a nearly naked new teammate. If he dropped the towel, it would be even more obvious how attractive he found Jensen. Yet he couldn’t just wear a towel...

“I’m Jake,” Jensen said, lacing his hands behind his head. It made his chest and arms stand out so Cougar wanted to lick them. “Cougar, right?”

Cougar remembered to nod, and Jake - Jake fit better than Jensen - tilted his head curiously.

“You don’t talk much, do you.” It wasn’t a question, surprisingly, so Cougar didn’t answer. He swallowed and made himself not look between Jake’s parted legs. “That’s alright. You communicate just fine.”

Hot humiliation rushed from Cougar's scalp to his toes. He turned sharply toward the dresser and yanked the drawer open. Next would come the teasing, the mockery, possibly blackmail… and he had to take it or he was out on his ass. Alone. With nothing.

“Hey, whoa,” Jake said as if Cougar had actually said the thoughts aloud and taken offense. “I’m not judging.” Cougar paused, glancing at the very odd man. “Come ‘ere.” When Cougar just frowned, not trusting this friendly request, Jake laughed and held out a hand. He didn’t get up, though, and that meant Cougar kept his spectacular view. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Although he did not know what to make of this request, or Jake Jensen, Cougar stepped toward that outstretched hand. His thoughts tumbled over themselves wondering what was happening, if he should do something, but he was far out of his depth. No one had ever been so hot their near-nudity had outed him.

Jake sat up as he approached, but didn’t close his legs. Instead, he took Cougar's hand, then used it to pull Cougar between his thighs. They closed around his hips, strong and firm, as Cougar stared into Jake’s eyes. They were a muted blue behind the yellow tinted glass, bright and friendly, and unconcerned that their bodies were nearly flush. Cougar's heart raced and he struggled not to reach out and touch those shining, thick muscles.

Jake’s fingers tugged at his towel and Cougar finally understood what was happening.

“_Oh_,” Cougar whispered.

“Mm,” Jake purred, his voice rich and low. “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

With the rug further pulled out from under him, Cougar just stood there as the towel was tossed aside and Jake looked him up and down. His cock was already hard, pointing upward and damp at the tip. Goosebumps raced across his skin as Jake slid his palm across Cougar's hip and he shivered, taking a shaky breath. His knees went weak, and it took all his restraint not to reach for Jake’s shoulders.

God, it had been so long since anyone had touched him kindly. While he could kill a man without blinking at a thousand yards or face-to-face, this? This was happening too fast.

Jake’s thumbs dug into the hollows between his thighs and groin and Cougar gasped, snapped out of his thoughts. What the hell was he thinking? A man as hot as Jake was saying the attraction was mutual and he was swaying from a single caress? He was thinking it was too fast? A man like this didn’t return his desire every day.

_Get it together, Alvarez_.

Sinking to his knees, Cougar watched Jake’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline. He didn’t stop Cougar, though, just watched as he hooked his thumbs in the eye-searingly bright boxers and pulled them down. He kept watching until Cougar leaned forward and slowly licked about his tip, just tasting Jake. Then his head fell back, long tendons standing out in his neck as he groaned and thickened in Cougar's hand. His hands slipped into Cougar's hair, making him shiver again while he pulled Jake into his mouth with his tongue. He sucked lightly, filled with satisfaction as Jake quickly became hard. 

“That’s good, Cougar,” Jake moaned. “God, feels damn good.”

Relaxing, Cougar fit his lips over his teeth and took as much of Jake’s cock into his mouth as he could fit. It wasn’t much, so he wrapped his hand around the rest and squeezed. Jake swore and his fingers tightened in Cougar's hair, the slight tug prickling all along his scalp.

Encouraged, Cougar sucked harder. Jake abruptly curled forward, slumping over him and groaning in pleasure. Moving his hand in time with his head, Cougar stroked, licked, and bobbed, enjoying the slide of Jake’s prick over his tongue. It was warm and a little sweet, but also bitter from the pre-come dripping from the tip. Jake’s expressive body told Cougar he loved every second. His full, pink lips parted, chest heaving as he panted, pecs bouncing up and down. 

Jake’s thighs began to tremble and he moaned Cougar's nickname again. Cougar's cock throbbed without having been touched at all. It didn’t help that Jake was a picture of debauchery with his eyes closed and his mouth open in an ‘oh’ of pleasure. If Cougar could have sucked harder, he would have, but he wasn’t exactly practiced at giving blow jobs. Still, he didn’t let up, moaning embarrassingly around Jake’s cock as he listened to Jake’s pleasure, his gasping breaths, and knew _he_ was doing that. _He_ was responsible for the twitching of Jake’s muscles, the hands carding roughly through his hair, and the way Jake was biting his lip so hard it had turned white beneath his teeth.

“Cougs, I’m gonna...” Jake warned. “I’m gonna…” 

It was good that what Jake ‘was gonna’ do was obvious, as Jake couldn’t finish either sentence. Cougar didn’t pull off, though, and Jake swore, shuddered violently, and swelled on Cougar's tongue. The first spurt hit the back of his throat and Cougar backed off, stroking slower so he could taste each drop as it spilled onto his tongue. Bitter, but somehow still sweet, and Cougar moaned again as he swallowed. 

Jake shook himself like a wet dog and Cougar realized the moment was probably over. Cougar hadn’t realized how badly he had been craving the contact of another man until he’d had it. It had felt damned good to be touched, to know his touch was wanted. Most of his hook-ups in the Army had ended at this point, though, with his partner getting off. You weren't gay if you didn't give, or some bullshit rationalization.

Jake’s long lashes blinked several times, and then his hand tightened in Cougar's hair. He was pulled into a crushing kiss, the treatment making his cock throb harder despite being startling. Jake took advantage, his tongue thrusting into Cougar's mouth again and again. 

Dizzy with a fresh wave of lust, Cougar barely noticed as he was lifted, pressed to Jake’s solid chest, and turned about in one smooth motion. When he could think beyond the ache in his dick, he was on his back with Jake draped over him, still kissing him senseless. His body sang with the contact, tingling so each brush of Jake’s skin made him moan.

“Shh,” Jake said, but he was laughing as he did. “Keep it down. Fuck, who _are_ you?”

“Cougar,” Cougar managed to say. 

“Even _that’s_ sexy.” Jake groaned. “You’re a menace, that’s what you are. A sex menace.”

Cougar didn’t know what a ‘sex menace’ was, but it didn’t seem to be a bad thing if it meant Jake kissing along his jaw and down his throat. He didn’t stop there, every touch of his lips taking him lower and lower, until his hands gripped Cougar's hips and held him down as his tongue licked beneath the ridge of his cut cock. Gasping, then moaning, Cougar's head fell back and his eyes closed against his will. Staring into Jake’s eyes as he wrapped his lips around his tip had been too much. There was too much intensity; too much understanding.

“You look so hot like this,” Jake purred. “Want to see you writhing in pleasure.”

Cougar groaned; he wanted that, too. The sooner the better. 

With a chuckle, Jake brought his lips back to Cougar's cock and wrapped his mouth back around the tip. Pleasure washed up Cougar's spine and he reached down to run his hand through Jake’s hair. It was hard from liberal amounts of gel, but Jake hummed his approval and Cougar lost his ability to hold coherent thoughts. 

Thrusting his hips upward, he pushed further into Jake’s mouth. Instead of resisting or holding him down, Jake let the tip hit the back of his throat. Then he _swallowed_ and Cougar learned deep throating wasn’t just in porn. Hot velvet gripped his cock, pulling and squeezing, and he groaned again. _Loudly_. 

A moment later, Jake’s hand covered his mouth. Cougar would have been shocked at how long his arms were, except he took that moment to pull off, took a breath through his nose, and then dove back down. Cougar's cry was muffled by Jake’s hand as he thrust upward to meet that delicious, tight heat. His other hand joined the first in Jake’s hair, both tangling the short strands between his fingers.

Jake hummed and the vibrations had hot lightning running through Cougar's veins. Without conscious thought, he thrust into Jake’s throat so that his lips brushed the root of Cougar's shaft. His hips pumped fast, hands yanking Jake’s head down again and then off, over and over as his nipples tightened and tingles ran through his nerves. No one had ever left him feeling like this, like there was nothing in the world but chasing his pleasure.

It was over too soon, Cougar's body shuddering as his balls tightened, but Jake had taken him apart. Cougar shattered under the best orgasm he’d had since he’d discovered masturbation. It was better than the first time he’d gotten fucked. He floated, muscles twitching at random, lost in bliss and satisfaction.

Cougar came back to himself with a smile on his lips and Jake’s arms around his back. While he’d come down from the drug that was Jake’s mouth, Jake had slipped back up the bed and wrapped Cougar in his arms. Cougar's head was now pillowed on a perfect pec as Jake’s fingers trailed up and down his spine. Despite how damned good it felt, and how he didn’t want it to end, Cougar stiffened. 

“Ah,” Jake said, a note of sadness in his tone, “not a cuddler, I see.”

Jake’s arms started to slip away and Cougar didn’t know how to stop it. He held still, looking up as Jake leaned over him. The disappointment was obvious on Jake’s face and Cougar hated to see it. Yet his arms didn’t listen to him. They didn’t reach out; they let Jake pull away.

And then Jake stopped, tilted his head, and had that _look_ again. The one that said he saw through Cougar, knew him, and everything he wanted to hide. He reached out slowly and drew a finger down Cougar's throat. Cougar shuddered, eyes closing as the sensation passed through him. 

When he opened his eyes, Jake was smiling again. That was… better. Best. Cougar liked it best when Jake smiled.

“Okay,” Jake said like Cougar had spoken. And then he was crawling back into place, turning Cougar over, and curling up behind him. To Cougar's surprise, that was alright. More than alright; the anxiety he’d been feeling faded away. 

“Explain,” Cougar said as Jake’s lips brushed his nape. He shivered again, but wrapped his arms around Jake’s.

“I cut off your sight lines,” Jake said, and, “Sorry,” and Cougar knew he was done for. The man was sin and sex and _understanding_ and _kindness_. 

It was almost too good to be true.


	3. Distractions

Cougar woke the next morning in Jake’s arms, warm and calm. Immediately, Jake hummed and kissed Cougar's temple. Then he was out of bed, grabbing a towel and heading for a shower. Cougar just stared at the closed door, trying to wrap his head around what had happened the previous afternoon, the sex that had left him so exhausted he'd slept through dinner. 

In the end, he couldn’t make heads or tails of Jake Jensen, but he knew he wanted him again. He wanted Jake's hands, his lips, his _mouth_. He wanted Jake's strange understanding, his laugh, his smile. He wanted in a way he hadn't experienced in years.

Shaking his head, Cougar jumped as someone slammed a fist on his door. The Colonel hollered, “Debrief in fifteen,” through the wood.

Good, just what he needed. A _distraction_.

\---- 

Fifteen minutes later, Cougar tromped onto a transport plane in full gear with the rest of the Losers. Clay went over the details of their mission as Cougar ate a protein bar. A kid, fifteen with dark hair long enough to hang into his green eyes, had been kidnapped by a Mexican gang while his family had been on vacation. The Diablo Rojos had sent his finger to his father as proof of life. Unfortunately for the gang, the father was a Texas Congressman with connections.

Their call signs were simple, which surprised him with Jake's joking attitude. Cougar would be Eagle, Clay was Lima One, Roque Lima Two, Pooch Lima Three, and Jake Lima Four. It was fairly straightforward, with his own call sign any sort of exception, and more professional than he'd have accredited to the Losers after knowing them so far.

After the debrief, they busied themselves ensuring their kits were in perfect order. It was a sufficient distraction that it was only after they had landed and clamored into a Humvee that Cougar realized nothing had been strained with Jake. No lingering glances, touches, or awkward silences. Jake had prattled on cheerfully, smiling at Cougar exactly as he’d smiled as the others. Like nothing had happened, or like it was that simple to be on a team and lovers. 

There was no time to dwell on which it meant. Jake had somehow acquired the feed to a camera in the apartment building the Diablos Rojos were using to hold the kid - a second, then three - and began a running commentary of how many hostiles there were, their arms, while also speculating that the door with four deadbolts was where they were keeping the kid.

“Do you always talk this much?”

Cougar hadn’t realized he’d said the words until they were out of his mouth. In his periphery, he was aware of Roque going very still and Clay’s focus burning against the side of his head. He kept his gaze on Jake, though. _He_ hadn’t looked up; he just smiled, turned back to his laptop, and announced he was requisitioning a satellite to check on perimeter patrols. 

Jake had a striking profile.

_Shit, shit, shit_.

The last thing Cougar needed was to fall for a man he didn’t know and a _teammate_, at that. Sex was one thing, but feelings? He looked out the window and thought about anything _but_ Jake. Which was difficult when he had ninety percent of their intel and wouldn’t stop talking. 

As soon as the Humvee slowed to bring him to his overwatch position, Cougar hurried out, focusing on the job and not the tightening of his pants. 

The building was identical to the one the Diablos Rojos were using as a base, nearly a dozen stories, run down and crumbling. He climbed the side using a rusted fire escape that clattered with every step. The Humvee drove off as the black iron screamed and swayed, indicating the bolts had long ago come loose in the stucco, but Cougar made it to the roof without the stairs falling out from under him. There he made his way to the roof’s edge, setting up to cover his team’s entry and exit point. 

“In position,” he said into his throat mic as he swept the parking lot of their quarry’s building. It was mostly empty of people and cars; probably standard at this time of day. The only people in sight were two men, red bandanas wrapped around their biceps. Each stood on either side of the door to the building, peering down into the street. The guards Jake had mentioned. 

"Roger,” Clay answered. “Squelch if the guards are where the satellite claims.” 

__

“Squelch,” Cougar said, because he wasn’t taking his hands off his gun for anything.

Someone snorted.

“Twenty,” Pooch said and, while Cougar could see their Humvee approaching the building as he swept the nearby buildings for snipers, he had no idea what the number meant. 

“Fifty,” Roque replied as if it had made sense.

“Fold,” Jake said. “Close quarters against the guy with a knife fetish? Hard no.”

“Loser,” Pooch huffed.

Jake’s tone was scandalized as he demanded, “Have you _met_ me?”

Someone snorted again. Cougar thought it might have been Pooch.

“Well I’m not a pussy, so I’m in.”

“Fine,” Jake growled, “a hundred on Lima Two.”

“How’s that work?” Roque asked. “Do we split the pot if I win?”

_Ah_, Cougar thought, finally catching on. They were betting on kill counts. 

The humvee swung into a parking space just outside the first door and Clay said, “Eagle, take them.”

With his first shot already lined up, Cougar exhaled and fired. He waited long enough to confirm the first of the two guards were down, then shifted his scope. The second guard was still staring, lips forming a word, as Cougar exhaled. The second guard crumpled, and Cougar quickly scanned for any other targets. There were none. The only people were running away, hands over their heads like that would stop a .50 caliber bullet from taking them off.

The comms carried the sound of the Humvee doors slamming, the distinct sound of a door being kicked off its hinges, and Roque said, “Clear,” followed by, “I’m not splitting the pot.”

“Then I will put my money on Eagle,” Jake said primly. “He’s up on all you bitches anyways.”

A chuckle escaped Cougar, vibrated his rifle, and he quickly stifled it.

“Alright,” Roque drawled, “we have a bet.”

\----

Since he wasn’t with the team, Cougar could only guess what was going on inside. There was lots of shouting, more gun fire, and a shocking amount of casual banter for men with their lives on the line. Clay would occasionally cut in with orders, but he didn’t participate.

Cougar knew they’d found the kid when Jake said, “Who called the door with all the locks?”

“Shut up,” Roque grumbled.

“Hey, hi there,” Pooch was saying. “It's okay, it's okay. Me and my friends are gonna get you back to your daddy, okay?”

If the kid answered, Cougar couldn’t hear it over the throat mics. 

Then Jake said, “Hey, Eagle, my main man, my dude, my guy,” in a rambling tone that had the hairs on the back of Cougar’s neck standing up.

“Spit it out,” Clay snapped.

“Convoy from the south.”

How Jake could possibly know that, Cougar didn’t know, but he shifted his scope and spotted a black Humvee barrelling down the cramped street where Jake had said it would be. Inside, he clocked six men with at least two AKs, though he doubted six men _only_ had two rifles. That wasn’t of much concern compared to the machine gun turret on the back of the vehicle. The Losers wouldn’t stand a chance against that kind of firepower.

“Oh,” Roque said, meaning he could see the new arrival as well. 

“Yeah,” Jake confirmed.

As Cougar swapped the mag in his rifle for the one at his belt, Roque hollered, “We got incoming! They've got some _serious_ firepower, Colonel!”

Cougar snorted, popping the new mag into place and lining up his shot. Exhale, squeeze the trigger, and the Humvee went careening into three parked cars, tilted on two wheels, before falling over on its side. Without taking his eye off the downed vehicle and ignoring the whoops over the comms, Cougar switched the mags again. Armored rounds against civilians were strictly prohibited by Geneva Conventions.

“Fantastic,” Clay said, his voice warmer than Cougar had yet to hear it.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” Pooch said seriously. 

“Kitty bites,” Jake said happily. 

Cougar wasn’t sure if he was joking until Roque said, “He’s gonna kill you, you know that, right?” and Jake laughed.

It was a nice laugh.

Shaking his head hard, Cougar focused on the crashed Humvee. The machine gunner had been thrown on impact and wasn't moving. There _was_ movement inside the cab, though. 

He waited, letting his team’s banter turn to background noise, and focused on his breathing. The driver’s door flew open, then slammed shut. Cougar breathed as it was tossed open again, then a third time where it finally locked open. An AK and two hands - left bloody, right holding the gun - appeared over the edge. The man’s head and shoulders followed, then the rest of him to perch on the passenger door. 

Cougar had the shot. He breathed carefully and didn't take it. 

The man reached into the Humvee and pulled out one of his buddies. Cougar grinned and breathed. 

“Eagle, is our exit clear?” Clay asked, breaking through Cougar’s focus, but not unsettling his breathing.

“No.”

“We need an exit.” Cougar silently acknowledged that as he watched a third man pulled from the wreckage. “Eagle!”

“Patience,” Cougar murmured, knowing the sound would carry well enough. “Soon.”

Clay swore and started barking orders, but they weren't for Cougar so he tuned them out. Another careful breath, an exhale, and a fourth man slid off the Humvee to the ground. The first moved to follow and Cougar took his shot. Then a second, third, and fourth. Four bodies joined the machine gunner, crumpled and unmoving, as blood spread across the concrete.

“Eagle, report!” Clay demanded.

Moving back to his original position, Cougar said, “Reinforcements neutralized. Checking your exit.”

“Fucking finally,” Roque grumbled.

It took Cougar another ten seconds to clear the parking lot and the door the Losers had picked as their entry and exit point. No one was waiting in ambush, at least no one in Cougar’s line of sight. They would know that caveat, though; they were good, the best, even if no one else wanted to work with them.

“Clear,” Cougar reported.

“Go!” Clay barked and the complex door flew open. Jake and Roque came out on point, sweeping left and right. Pooch appeared when they signaled the all clear, the kid tucked against his side. Clay had taken the rear, firing back into the darkness before slamming the door shut. 

“Pack it in, Eagle,” Clay ordered. “Pick up in five.”

Instead of immediately following the orders, Cougar waited for every single Loser, plus the package, to climb into their vehicle. He kept an eye on the nearby buildings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Only when the car sped off did he move, breaking down his tripod and packing up his kit. It took thirty seconds and then he was sprinting across the roof to the ancient fire escape. Holding his breath, he took the steps four and five at a time so the entire stairs rang and shook, threatening to collapse around him.

When his boots hit the pavement, tires squealed and the Humvee roared around the corner. He had taken a single step toward it when another car roared around the corner. Cougar had a moment to take in the details - black mustang convertible, four passengers - when a man in the back, closest to his side of the street, raised a machine gun and opened fire. 

Voices shouted over the comms as Cougar rolled, offered a prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel, and frantically searched for cover. Silently, he berated himself for carelessness. He shouldn't have packed up his rifle. He should have carried it. It was rule nine, for God’s sake: Never let go of your rifle. Now he was dead unless there was a miracle.

Cougar’s miracle came in the form of screeching tires and several tons of metal, sliding sideways, taking up the entirety of the road, and blocking him from the gunman’s line of sight with the armored plating of the Humvee. The back door swung open and Roque waved him forward. Several voices were yelling, but Cougar couldn't understand one over the other. He _did_ understand a miracle when he saw one, though, and sprinted for the open door. 

Jumping in over Roque, he fetched up against Jake’s back as his 2IC slammed the door behind him and Pooch took off once more. It took Cougar another moment of surging adrenaline to realize Jensen had had his back to him because he and Clay were firing out the open windows at the bastards in the car. Clay pulled back as Pooch righted them, Roque taking point on Cougar’s other side. 

Another glance found the kid curled up in the back, hands over his head. Cougar climbed over the back seat and joined him. He pulled the kid into his side, and wasn't surprised when he clung to him for dear life. Cougar wrapped his arm around the kid’s back and held him close. The position served double duty; if the bullet proofing on the back of the Humvee failed, he’d take the shots first.

“Soon,” he told the boy. “We'll be home soon.”

The kid didn't respond or look up, but he didn't let go either.

With a shout and a curse, Roque jerked back into the humvee. Cougar looked over the back seat as Clay climbed into the seat between Roque and Jake. The latter was still hanging out the window, firing even, steady shots instead of the hail of gunfire they'd used when covering him. Taking his time, Cougar noted with satisfaction, which was rule two: Accuracy over speed.

“Get off me,” Roque grumbled, but Clay ignored him to rip his sleeve off entirely. Blood dripped down his bicep from a neat through and through. 

“You're lucky it didn't hit bone,” Clay said, which was what Cougar was thinking. “No arteries. A few stitches and you'll be good as new.”

Roque grunted as Clay started making a quick and dirty field bandage with gauze and duct tape. The pressure bandage would hold until they were back in the States. He really had been lucky, if you could call getting shot at all ‘lucky’.

Behind them, the gunshots abruptly stopped. Tires screeched and the distinct sound of a car crash meant Cougar didn't have to look to see their tail was no longer behind them. 

“Woo!” Jake hollered moments before he pulled himself out of the window. “Those four bring me up to six and keep you squarely at eight.” Roque fixed Jake with a dangerous look, but Jake didn't seem to notice the impending physical harm as he crooned, “Kitty cat, what were you at?”

Cougar almost didn’t answer, but said, “Nine,” since increasing the tension might have sent Roque over the edge. Not that Cougar would let harm come to Jake, he realized with a jolt. Roque would have to go through him first.

“Can you beat that, Pooch?”

“The Pooch _could_ beat that,” their driver grumbled. 

“But the Pooch did _not_ beat that.” Jake cackled. “Pay up, bitches!”

“I'll give you what you earned,” Roque growled.

Jake just tsked. Cougar wondered if he even knew he was being threatened.

“Now, now, don’t be a sore loser. _You_ could have bet on the kitty.”

Cougar growled, “I am not a kitty.” 

Jake twisted around and beamed at him.

“After winning me two hundred bucks, I'll call you whatever you want, Cougs.”

Cougar hesitated, the last few moments running again through his head. He’d spoken more in the last ten minutes than he had in the last six months. So he had a choice to make. Push Jake away, or let him in. Put himself in danger, or take the hand Jake had somehow smashed through walls he couldn't bring down on his own.

“Cougar,” Cougar decided, then conceded, “or Cougs.”

Nodding like a bobblehead, Jake got comfortable and twisted sideways to watch Cougar. The kid peeked up, glancing at Jake and then up at Cougar.

“Hey there, little man,” Jake said. “This guy just won me a whole lot of money. What do you say, think I owe him one?”

The kid nodded hesitantly and Jake’s smile somehow brightened from light bulb to spotlight.

“That's what I thought, too. So, what d’ya say, Cougs? Buy ya a beer?”

Cougar froze in his surprise, simply giving Jake a slow blink. Then he nodded once, even though he wasn’t sure if this was Jake asking him out as a friend or… something else. It seemed to be enough for Jake, who turned to sit normally in his seat and nudged Roque with his shoulder.

“Buy you one, too, grumpy.”

Shaking his head slowly, Cougar looked down at the kid, shrugged, and tried not to be disappointed they wouldn’t be alone. Or on a date. When the kid giggled, Cougar felt some tension slip from his shoulders. If the kid could laugh, he'd be fine. 

Cougar glanced at Jake, who had buried his head in a laptop again. Maybe he’d be fine, too.


	4. Contradictions

“Nice shooting, Cougs.”

Cougar looked up at Jake warily. Whatever he was going for fell flat when his eyes locked on Jake's bare chest instead of finishing their climb to his face. Jake grinned, but didn't call him on it. He finished towelling dry his hair and tossed the wet fabric over his desk chair to dry.

“So? You taking me up on my offer?”

The confused blink on Cougar's face was adorable. Jeeze, Jake had it bad already. He couldn't help it, though. The man was sexy, badass, and a bit broken. Just Jake's type.

“The drink I owe you,” he prompted, “for winning me that bet.”

“Ah,” Cougar said and Jake was pleased to get a whole syllable out of him. How did one go through life being so damn quiet? Jake couldn’t imagine.

“Ah,” Jake confirmed. He waved his hands toward Cougar's lap and the rifle spread out in pieces over the bedspread. “Or you can keep hanging out with your girlfriend there. I think I'm way more fun, though.”

Cougar hesitated, his gaze flicking to the rifle, the door, Jake, and back to the gun. Jake tried not to sigh, but it was an effort. Why did he always want the ones with issues?

“It's not a date if you don't want it to be.” That had Cougar's full attention. “I want you, wanna fuck you to be honest, wanna get to know you, too. It's not a requirement. I'm happy if you set the ground rules, even if it means we're just besties.”

Cougar growled, “Besties?” and Jake preened at coaxing out a full word. 

“Besties, buds, bros, best pals; you know, _friends_.”

Cougar blinked, surprise flickering in his soulful brown eyes, and Jake’s heart ached for him. Then he blinked again and smiled; a quick, fleeting, but pleased, smile. 

“I would like to be your friend.”

“Holy shit!” Jake blurted. “A whole sentence!” Cougar snorted, but had started putting his gun back together so they could leave. “You must really mean that; besties it is.”

Cougar growled again, eyes narrowing at Jake. It was definitely the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

\----

“I’m fucked,” Jake told Bucky over his headset months later. They were playing capture the flag in Team Fortress 2, more commonly known as TF2, and talking over Slack. They played a few hours a week, so long as Jake wasn’t deployed, and sometimes even then. Bucky was terrible, but he’d always been competitive, something Hydra hadn’t programmed out of him. Currently, Bucky was setting up an engineering base in their flag room while Jake was sprinting to capture the enemy’s flag as a scout.

“Do they have a heavy?” Bucky asked worriedly, likely imagining all his hard work blown up by a giant machine gun.

Jake snorted.

“No, man - well, actually I have no idea. I was referring to -”

“Cougar,” Bucky finished. “You know, if you’d run Pyro and help me down here, we’d be unstoppable.”

Jake said, “No doubt,” and ran straight past an enemy engineer setting up his own base to grab the flag.

Knowing he was being ignored, Bucky grumbled, “I hate you.”

“Uh huh,” Jake knew that was untrue without questioning it for a millisecond, “but seriously, I’m fucked.”

Bucky asked slowly, “And you think I can help you with that?”

Jake’s character screamed on screen, stabbed in the back as he’d raced across the bridge. He sighed as the loading screen started counting down his respawn.

“No, I’m just complaining.”

“Oh, then complain away. I’ll just sit down here with my abandonment issues.” Jake snorted. “All alone, waiting for the enemy to smash my face in. By myself. Like I was for years and years with Hydra.”

Years ago, that would have sent Jake’s anxiety and survivor’s guilt into overdrive. Now he was just happy Bucky could joke about those lost seventy years. They had come a long, long way to be able to laugh about Jake’s biggest failure and Bucky’s greatest tragedy. 

“Someone has to win this match,” Jake said. “And we won’t do it by being turtles, safe in our shells.”

“Whatever, what do you know, you’re fucked.”

Jake smiled, thinking of just the night before. 

“Mm, I am that. The sex is definitely not the problem.”

Bucky laughed.

“Sex was never the problem.”

Though Bucky couldn’t see it, Jake wiggled his eyebrows.

“You would know.”

“I fucking would, wouldn’t I?” Jake could see Bucky shaking his head. “Why don’t you just tell Cougar how you feel?”

Jake just sighed, then shouted curses as the respawn door opened and he was torn apart by a heavy camping the spot. 

Over the last six months, Jake had continued to find Cougar fascinating. Roque and Clay appreciated both his skill and his ability to not only distract Jake, but keep him occupied when off mission. Pooch was just happy everyone was getting along. For the first time since Jake had joined the Losers, they had a permanent team. 

Cougar still didn’t talk much, but he was opening up crack by crack, actually holding conversations a few times a month. It was easier for Jake, who had found he could read Cougar as well as he’d ever read Bucky, Nat, or Sam. The connection was strong, a pull that Cougar seemed to feel as well, even if they never spoke of it. That was fine by Jake; he had learned so much about Cougar. He was a cuddler, but didn’t like to ask for it after sex. He enjoyed it rough, position be damned, and took as well as he gave. He noticed when Jake forgot to eat, or sleep, and tried to take care of him. The sex got better and better as Cougar’s confidence grew. Not in his ability, but confidence that Jake wasn’t going to push him away, or mock him, or whatever it was some asshole had done to Cougar in the past.

Not that Jake knew the details. Getting anything significant out of Cougar was impossible, actually sent the man’s heart racing if Jake pushed too hard, so Jake didn’t push. Admittedly, it would have been nice to know where they stood with each other. Cougar drew women to him like a magnet. It could be he was oblivious to their flirtation, but Jake wasn’t inured to Cougar’s hands on their hips, or kisses that never went anywhere because Cougar was in his bed night after night. 

Jake attracted his own share of companions, but had become an expert in chasing them away with terrible pick-up lines. He didn’t want anyone but Cougar anyway. Sooner or later, he was going to have to say as much.

Bucky, of course, thought Jake was ridiculous. They talked and texted regularly these days, now that they were certain the hunt for Steve Rogers wasn’t hot. The rest of his friends texted through the secure chat program Tony had set up. He missed them, but he wasn’t alone. He had the Losers, Jess, and Beth, and hadn’t been happier since Cougar had started expecting Jake to regularly share his bed instead of his own about two months back.

They had a pretty good system worked out. If Cougar left the door open, Jake kept his hands to himself. If he closed it, Jake could touch Cougar however he wanted, and Jake _always_ wanted, and every night they curled up together to sleep. Honestly, if Jake could spend his life with his hand in Cougar’s back pocket, he would. Cougar didn’t mind when Jake babbled, letting a stream of whatever was in his head out of his mouth. Objectively, he understood it was as annoying as when Tony had done it to him, but now he understood how helpful it was when working on difficult software problems. 

Five minutes later, after Bucky had come to his rescue, Jake was able to say, “You know why.”

Bucky said, “My base has been destroyed and it’s your fault.”

“It’s that camper’s fault,” Jake argued.

“Who died?” Bucky demanded. “Who? Was it me? No?”

“Turtle,” Jake mumbled.

“No?” Bucky repeated louder. “No, I didn’t think so.”

With a laugh, Jake ran his toon down to the basement to protect Bucky’s engineer as he set up again. 

“Has he brought it up?” Bucky asked.

“Cougs? No. We just… have sex.”

“Well, if you’re doing that thing with your tongue, I’m really not surprised.” Jake snorted, but Bucky added, “Or that thing with your abs, or when you’re on your back, but you still do all the work and your pecs bounce real nice.”

Jake laughed while asking, “Does Natasha know you still think about me in bed?”

“Natasha knows everything,” Bucky said. “There is not a thing I don’t tell that woman.”

Normally, Jake would have called bullshit, because there were plenty of times Bucky had kept things from Nat when she would have stopped him from going on a mission. Jake didn’t because the hair at his nape stood up and he knew without looking that Cougar was there. Cougar, whose hearing was incredible had definitely heard him talking about sex with someone else. Still, Jake was surprised to see the anger flickering in Cougar’s soulful eyes when he looked. They weren’t exclusive. They were just besties. Only, Cougar looked like he was about to kill Jake with his bare hands.

“Hey, Bucky, old friend old pal?”

Cougar’s eyes didn’t blink. Jake was a supersoldier and he was not afraid of much, but this was ranking high on his list. Something in his tone must have clued Bucky in, because he asked, “How fucked are you right now?”

A hysterical giggle threatened to leave Jake’s throat.

“Never again if Cougar does not hear from you how you are my _ex_ and we have not had sex in a long, long time.”

Cougar at last blinked and Jake scrambled to pull the headset from the jack so Bucky’s voice said over the speaker, “Ages, decades, a century.”

It was too close to his big secret and panic had Jake snapping, “If you fuck this up for me, I will end you.”

Bucky paused and Jake realized his best friend, the only guy who was around when he was a kid and wasn’t dead, was considering the words as a real threat. He must have sounded more serious than he’d meant. Then again, maybe he was more serious than he’d known.

“I’m assuming he can hear me?”

“Yes.”

“‘Kay. So, Cougar, I’m Bucky and I’ve heard all about you. I imagine you’ve heard nothing about me because Jake is a dick - don’t argue.” Jake closed his mouth and Cougar’s eyebrows went up. “We dated a very long time ago, basically when we were kids. I’m now happily with someone else because life happened, and now he’s a fucking Special Forces operator and I’m an international spy.”

“Buck,” Jake said, his voice edging on hysteria again.

“What? I could be.” His tone changed as he spoke to Cougar again. “If you hurt Jake, you won’t see me coming.”

“Bye, Buck!” Jake practically shouted and slammed the laptop closed. He knew Bucky was laughing at him all the way back in New York. Jess would laugh at him if she could see him now. Hell, _everyone_ he had ever known would laugh at him. Jake Jensen, formerly Steve Rogers, formerly Captain America, terrified of a misunderstanding with his boyfriend. 

Not-boyfriend. 

_Whatever_ they were.

Jake said, “So,” and Cougar crossed the room in a few long strides. There was hardly a foot of height between them with Jake sitting and Cougar standing, but the short Latino still towered over him.

“Mine,” Cougar declared, reaching out and wrapping his fingers in the fabric of Jake’s shirt right above his chest. “Clear?”

“Crystal,” Jake assured. The fear leached out of him, but his heart continued to pound. This was not the kind declaration a fuck-buddy made to their fellow fuck-buddy. He voiced the hope building in his chest by asking, “Does this mean we’re dating?”

The hand on his chest opened, fingers splaying over his chest. 

“Idiot.”

Jake fist pumped, making Cougar’s lips twitch with amusement.

“That is a yes! We are dating!” He froze, expression going slack as he realized Bucky was now responsible for getting his relationship with Cougar to the next level. “Oh fuck, that means Bucky is… He’s going to gloat so _hard_ when he hears about this.”

Because they were alone, Cougar straddled Jake’s thighs and pushed Jake back. With Jake reclining against the couch, he pushed his hands through Jake’s hair as he knelt so he was still hovering over him, but touching him from hip to the top of his head.

“This is bad?”

Jake made a face, laying his hands on Cougar’s hips.

“Bucky is an ass.”

Cougar chuckled, a low, purring sound that matched his namesake and made Jake shiver.

“He says you are a dick.”

“Well, he would. He’s an ass.” Cougar laughed, shaking his head as he leaned forward to press a kiss just beneath Jake’s ear. “A-and he is going to take credit for us dating. Which is annoying. I did that on my own.”

Another kiss, this time against Jake’s pulse, and Cougar whispered, “And with that thing you do with your tongue.”

“I can do that thing right now if you want.”

Cougar snorted, settled his weight atop Jake’s thighs, and sat back. The expression on his face told Jake that, as much as he wanted to, he had questions. With Cougar, questions were difficult so anything else had to wait. Jake wondered what kept the man from speaking, but wasn’t going to push. That was the kind of thing one told in time, not by having it forced out of you.

“You are friends with your ex?”

Jake nodded, sliding a hand beneath Cougar’s shirt to feel the heat of his skin against his palm.

“Everyone else is dead, you know? Having someone who was there… We both need it - the relationship - because no one else gets it.”

Cougar frowned, but didn’t pull away.

“Jess?”

_Oops_. 

Jake nearly said the word aloud, but had the foresight to keep his mouth shut. No one in Jake’s life knew he had once been Steve Rogers except Jess. He didn’t know how Cougar would respond and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. Most people took a disfavorable view of Steve Rogers since he had left the shield and title behind, blaming him for every tragedy, as if his mere presence would have changed things. He was America’s scapegoat. 

It infuriated Jake on a good day, knowing everything he had done no longer mattered because he’d chosen to do something for himself. Because he had chosen to be selfish, just once. No one cared about the difference he had made in the past, and no one spared a thought to what difference he could do as a regular person. That, in and of itself, pissed him off when he knew so well that it was normal, everyday people who made the biggest differences every day.

Still, he wasn’t a regular person and sometimes he worried they were right. He could make a bigger difference if he returned to the Avengers, took back the shield, and became Captain America again. Was his own happiness worth the lives lost when he didn’t?

“It’s not the same,” Jake said, and it wasn’t a lie because Jess hadn’t actually been there when he was growing up. “I love her, you know that,” Cougar nodded once, “but she’s my sister. She’s not… a friend. And, you know, she has Beth. She has bigger problems than me complaining.”

Cougar’s eyes flashed.

“You complain about sex?”

Jake’s grip tightened on Cougar’s hip.

“No! I was specifically _not_ complaining about the sex.”

Mollified, Cougar’s muscles relaxed beneath Jake’s touch. 

“The thing when -”

Jake blushed and interrupted before Cougar repeated Bucky’s praise again. “Yes, all of that.”

“Mm.” Cougar hummed and dug his fingers into the muscles of Jake’s neck. Jake melted immediately, eyes half-closing in pleasure. “But about me.”

It took Jake a moment to understand Cougar’s meaning, a moment he blamed entirely on Cougar’s clever hands. 

“Not complaining any more,” Jake grinned up at Cougar. “_Now_ we’re dating.” 

With a snort, Cougar smacked Jake’s shoulder and stood.

“Then your friend should gloat,” _if that’s what you were complaining about_, Cougar didn’t add. He didn’t have to; Jake heard him just fine. And, when put that way, Cougar was right, since they weren’t about to have the relationships status discussion earlier. Maybe he’d send Bucky a gift basket. But that would be later. Now, he grabbed Cougar’s wrist to pull Cougar back to him.

“Now that we’re dating, you got plans for Christmas?”

There was no outward sign of distress, but Jake heard the way Cougar’s heart rate began racing. There was no additional tension in his body language, but his rapidly beating pulse said that had been the wrong question to ask. Which was odd, considering they had been discussing their relationship. Why were Christmas plans more stressful?

“You’re such a contradiction,” Jake mumbled. “Biggest badass to ever hold a gun and you can’t talk about your Christmas plans without having a heart attack.”

Cougar glared at him, but it was fairly ineffective as he had followed Jake’s tug and curled up in his arms, nose pressed against Jake’s neck as he gripped Jake’s t-shirt in his fists. Cougar’s lips moved against his neck, but not in a kiss. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. They formed words, but no sound passed his throat. Like he was stuck. 

And all the while his heart rate climbed.

Jake nuzzled his nose into Cougar’s hair. Jake loved his hair. Silky smooth with a gentle curl and long enough that he could run his fingers through it for hours. He had once, and Cougar had almost purred.

“Whatever you’re trying to say, you don’t have to.” 

Instead of reassuring Cougar, the words had the opposite effect. Cougar’s hands tightened, stretching Jake’s shirt, and his heart slammed into his ribs. Jake imagined he could hear the echo in his bones. 

“Okay, okay, it’s important,” he said quickly, pulling Cougar to him as tight as he could. He’d never seen Cougar so affected and hated seeing him this way.. “I just meant that, whatever it is, I’ll be here to hear it whenever you get around to it.” 

Cougar’s head lifted and Jake was unnerved by the way Cougar looked at him. Like he found the sentence suspicious.

“Hey,” Jake gently touched Cougar’s cheek, then slipped his fingers into that gorgeous hair, “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You can tell me whatever it is when you can. It doesn’t have to be now ‘cause you’ve got all the time in the world.”

It was dangerously close to admitting that Jake was madly in love, but they _were_ dating now. It was also the right thing to say as Cougar relaxed in his arms and his heart finally started to slow. Though he wanted to know what had set Cougar off, or what it was Cougar so desperately wanted to say, Jake kissed him instead. That, and the steady combing of Jake’s fingers through his hair, had Cougar melting into a puddle in Jake’s arms.

“Better?”

Cougar nodded, so Jake kissed his forehead. Yeah, if Cougar didn’t know how far gone Jake was after today, he was dumber than Jake thought. Nevertheless, Jake couldn’t say it, couldn’t ask for it, not least of all because he feared setting Cougar’s panic attack off again. They were dating now, but how could he even consider asking for more when he was hiding who he used to be? What kind of love was built on lies?

At least Cougar wasn’t dumb. 

Jake kissed Cougar’s forehead again and said, “Let’s try some yes or no questions. Do you have plans for Christmas?”

Cougar shook his head.

Jake hesitated, then asked, “Are you going to be alone?”

Cougar nodded and Jake huffed.

“Fat chance.” Cougar’s head lifted and he eyed Jake suspiciously again. “No, I’m not ditching Jess and Beth. You’re coming home with me.”

An eyebrow raised, asking, “_Am I now_?”

“Yes,” Jake declared, smiling at Cougar. “No one should be alone on Christmas. Family rules. You have no choice.”

The eyebrow lowered and Cougar smiled, which Jake took to mean he was agreeing.

“Good. I already have your gift picked out. It’s going to be _great_ having you home and,” Cougar’s hands began undoing his pants, “Oh. Oh, okay.”

Cougar smirked up at him as he slipped off his lap, kneeling smoothly between Jake’s knees. The smirk was a little ruined by how _fond_ Cougar looked, but it didn’t ruin the effect it had on Jake’s cock. He was growing hard even as Cougar reached into his pants to pull him out. Jake still wasn’t fully hard when Cougar took all of him in his mouth, though. The sudden wet suction finished the job in a heartbeat and he arched half off the couch before his hands scrambled for purchase on anything he could hold that might ground the electricity sizzling his nerves.

“Fuck, Cougs,” Jake gasped. His left hand was trying to crush the couch supports, but the right had found its way into Cougar’s long, black hair. He combed his fingers through those silky strands as Cougar gave him a proper cat-who-caught-the-canary grin even as he licked from the base of Jake’s cock to the tip. The sight alone threatened to end this moment.

“God, _look_ at you!”

Smirking lips wrapped around the tip of Jake’s cock and sucked hard. Jake curled forward as a wash of pleasure left him gasping. Cheeks hollowing from the suction, Cougar bobbed down, taking half of Jake into his mouth. As he did, Cougar’s tongue flicked along the underside of Jake’s cock, making him bite back moans. They were alone, but that didn’t mean someone might come looking for them if they got loud. 

Cougar pulled back until just the tip remained in his mouth, slowly licked it, and Jake gasped out, “Tease.”

A low rumble of agreement vibrated from Cougar’s throat, along Jake’s tip just before Cougar dove back down. His hand wrapped around the bit of Jake not getting attention and Jake struggled not to pull too hard on Cougar’s hair, or break the couch. It just felt so damn good and _looked_ good, too. Cougar’s lips were wet with saliva and bright pink, puffed up from sucking. His hair was a wild cascade down his back, held only in place where Jake’s hand had pinned it to his neck as he bobbed down quickly, then pulled off to tease Jake before repeating the process. Jake’s cock was wrapped in tight, wet warmth, caressed by Cougar’s tongue, followed by a harsh burst of pleasure before it started all over and over again.

“Cougs,” Jake chanted, the nick-name a whispered mantra as pleasure built, tightening in his groin, straining his muscles with tension until it burst like dam. He came with a gasp, throwing his head back, cock spurting as everything released and Cougar swallowed it all down. 

Jake whispered, “Fuck,” as he slowly opened his eyes. It took a little bit longer to bend his neck and look at Cougar, but when he did, his cock tried to harden again. Cougar met his gaze lazily, drawing a finger through the spunk across Cougar’s chin and cheek, then bringing it to his mouth. Again, Jake’s cock twitched, trying to fill with blood, but he was completely spent.

“Fuck,” Jake said again. “What’d I do to get so lucky?”

Snorting out a laugh, Cougar followed the pull of Jake’s hands, folding into Jake’s lap. He sighed contentedly as Jake kissed him, but backed off each time he tried to deepen the embrace. Jake didn’t question it until his hands pulled Jake’s away from his zipper.

“Don’t you want…?”

Cougar shook his head.

“Wasn’t about me.”

Jake blinked in surprise and slowly wrapped his arms around Cougar’s waist.

“Oh.” 

Though he wasn’t sure what Cougar had been trying to say, Jake knew it was something he had been unable to voice. Though he would have liked to reciprocate the sentiment - any sentiment, really - Jake understood a gesture and wasn’t going to insist. He let Cougar tuck his cock away, pulled off his shirt to clean them both, and then settled his boyfriend (_finally_) against his chest. 

Whatever Cougar had meant with the blow job, Jake understood _this_ far better. The position was vulnerable - Cougar couldn’t see the door with his face pressed into Jake’s neck, nor could he easily run while being held - and yet he was limp in Jake’s arms, his eyes closed, breathing even. Cougar felt _safe_ with Jake.

Nothing else needed to be said.

\----

Despite their official status of dating and a month’s warning, Cougar could only describe the feeling in his chest as anxiety. He’d been unable to concentrate on Jake’s chatter all through their flight, to the point where Jake had actually shut up and started playing a game on his battered Original GameBoy. Cougar would have felt bad about it if he wasn’t, well, so very freaked out.

Jake had no idea, but this was his first real relationship; the first time he’d ever gone to meet the family. He didn’t know what would happen if Jess and Beth, Jake’s sister and niece, didn’t like him. He couldn’t help but wonder how that would affect their relationship, which had then made him realize how badly he didn’t want to lose Jake.

For the first time in his life, Cougar was in love.

Oh, he’d loved people, cared for them. Most of them were dead now, like his family, like his first squad, like his first partner. That relationship had been close to this. Antonio Rodriguez had been a damned good spotter, funny and sweet, great in bed. They would probably have done this if Cougar hadn’t told Antonio he thought he was falling in love. Antonio had died the next day, stepping on unexploded ordnance left over from the first Gulf War. 

Cougar hadn’t dealt with it. He still hadn’t, if he was being honest. He’d taken a transfer to a new squad and buried his feelings, stopped talking altogether so no one asked how he was. And it had worked for a while. Only, he couldn’t avoid opening up with his new team forever, eventually talking with them, laughing, going out, even talking their sergeant to bed now and then. The guy had been a real closet case, enjoying what Cougar gave while rarely reciprocating. They’d been reaching some kind of compromise when he’d lost them, too. 

A roadside IED and Cougar was the only one left.

He’d stopped trying after that, too afraid to care about anyone in the irrational fear they’d be taken from him, too. Jake hadn’t given him a choice, finding his way into Cougar’s heart and bed without him knowing what was even happening.

And now he was in love.

The fear was stifling. A panic attack had threatened before they’d gotten off the plane, but then Jake’s hand had slipped into Cougar’s. A simple touch, but grounding, reminding Cougar he wasn’t alone, that Jake wasn’t dead, and he cared enough to see Cougar even when he rarely spoke. Even when Cougar had ignored him for over an hour, he’d noticed Cougar’s fear and hadn’t made a big production of it. He’d just held Cougar’s hand.

Cougar squeezed hard. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost Jake now.

Jake held his hand all through the rest of the flight, then as they disembarked and trooped through the airport. When they reached pick up, that touch abruptly vanished as a high pitched voice shrieked, “_Uncle Jake_!” It felt like he’d lost a limb, or his gun. 

He watched as Jake squatted down and caught the little girl that barrelled into his chest.

“Heya, squirt,” Jake said, lifting the girl easily and holding her on his hip. “Where’s your mom?”

Heedless of the fall to the pavement, the little girl swung herself about and pointed at an old, blue Corolla idling a few feet away. A woman standing at the driver’s door smiled and waved, but Cougar failed to see any resemblance to Jake at all. Nevertheless, Jake grinned and waved back before looking to Cougar.

“Squirt, this is Cougar. Cougar, this is Beth.”

The tightness of his throat made Cougar’s voice rough as he said, “She’s too pretty to be related to you.”

“Hi! Momma says you’re my new uncle.”

Before Cougar could react to that, Jake turned pink, and hurriedly said, “Let’s get our stuff loaded up and get on our way, huh?”

Putting words to action, he purposefully strode to the parked car. Cougar followed, not certain what to make of everything, and nearly had a heart attack as Beth let out a giggle and flung herself backwards from Jake. Yet, instead of falling and cracking her head open, she just dangled from Jake’s arm, laughing like she was having the time of her life.

“Everytime she does that, I think she’s going to die,” Jess said, echoing Cougar’s thoughts.

“No way; Uncle Jake would never drop me!” Beth declared, straightening up and pouting at her mother. 

“Not ever!” Jake agreed, mimicking Beth’s tone.

Jess rolled her eyes and came over to hug Jake tightly. Then, as Jake set Beth down and started loading their bags into the trunk, Jess walked right up to Cougar and hugged him as well. If he had been expecting it, Cougar thought he might have been able to avoid it, but as it was, he had no choice but to hug the petite woman back and be quietly impressed with her strength.

“I’m so happy you came,” she said, squeezing him hard before stepping back and taking his bag right out of his hand. “Jake never shuts up about you.”

Cougar looked to Jake for confirmation and found his boyfriend blushing again.

“Well, you’re awesome,” Jake said defensively as he took Cougar’s bag from Jess. 

Nodding, Cougar said, “True,” and got Jake to smile at him. To Jess he said, “He speaks of you often, as well.”

“I’ll bet.” Jess shook her head, making her dark hair swish around her shoulders. “The man just talks too much.”

“Do not!” Jake and Beth said at the same time. That’s when Cougar noticed they were climbing into the backseat. Together. Meaning, Cougar was going to be alone in the front with Jess.

Something must have shown on his face, or Jess was as much a mind reader as Jake, because she smiled at him and gestured to the car.

“Don’t worry. I don’t bite.”

Despite the reassurance, Cougar wasn’t thrilled to climb into the front seat by himself. Jake hadn’t ditched him - he was literally right behind Cougar - and yet the distance was enough he felt alone. He glanced at Jess, but she was checking traffic before pulling out into it, so he didn’t know if he was expected to hold a conversation.

He really couldn’t hold a conversation right now.

Cougar’s fingers were gripping the door handle too tightly when something tugged gently at his hair. It was a simple pull, then the feeling of a lock of his hair being twirled about someone’s finger, and Cougar was able to breathe easily again. Jess turned on the radio, leaving Jake and Beth to talk over it as they drove, and Cougar relaxed back into that fleeting touch. 

How the hell had he gotten so lucky? He would do anything to keep this, this easy way of being, where no one pushed him, or expected more than he could give. Jake had probably told Jess how to behave, but that didn’t make the feeling of belonging lessen. It just made him love Jake more as the drive went on.

They pulled up before a blue Cape Cod style house with white trim and a small front porch. A white plastic fence hid the back yard from sight while a few young trees tried to shade the property. To Cougar’s surprise, they didn’t park in the garage, but stopped in front of it. Jake and Beth instantly piled out of the car, shouting about popsicles, and Cougar found himself smiling despite himself as he realized they’d left him and Jess with the bags.

Jess shook her head ruefully, but looked as unwillingly charmed as Cougar felt.

“If I didn’t love them so much, I’d kill them.”

Cougar was nodding before he thought about it. Then he panicked, head snapping to look at Jess, but she was just smiling at him.

“Don’t worry, Cowboy. Your secret is safe with me.”

Swallowing hard, Cougar watched her turn off the car and get out. He waited a beat before following, his heart slowly returning to a normal rate. 

\----

After a long afternoon and evening where Jake and Beth had dominated every conversation, Cougar was exhausted. He’d excused himself during one of the Harry Potter movies (he wasn’t sure which one) and headed to bed. Only, he’d found himself staring out the window, wondering what he was going to do. 

Conventional wisdom said if you loved someone, you told them. Yet, in Cougar’s case, everyone he loved died. His parents, his past lovers, his teammates. Getting to know people was difficult to begin with, and he was cursed on top of that. Thinking of Beth without her uncle, or Jess mourning Jake’s loss, was as painful as the thought of not having Jake in his life. Though he’d been nervous and silent all day, he’d still felt like he belonged here.

Jake had been a whirlwind, a blessed force of nature that had changed his life completely. Cougar had never thought he’d be standing in a home like this, with a loving family who had taken him in without hesitation. His own family - mom, dad, younger brother and sister - had died in a car accident on the way to his high school graduation.   
Cougar must have been more lost in his thoughts than he’d realized, because he didn’t hear Jake enter the room, or cross it. His strong arms wrapped around his waist, making Cougar jump. It was only his familiar smell that kept him from reacting violently to defend himself.

Jake chuckled, a low rumble of amusement that calmed Cougar in a moment.

“I think that’s a first,” Jake murmured before pressing a kiss to Cougar’s neck. “I snuck up on you.”

Not knowing what to say, Cougar just wrapped his arms around Jake’s and leaned back into his expansive chest. Jake continued to kiss his neck for a few minutes, though they slowed to lingering press of lips against skin as the silence drew on.

Resting his chin on Cougar’s shoulder, Jake asked, “What’s wrong?”

Cougar sighed, wondering how he would answer that question. Nothing was _wrong_. Only, he was in love, which meant the world was going to try to kill Jake as soon as possible.

When he didn’t answer, Jake said, “Beth likes you. So does Jess. I know this has been hard on you; that you didn’t have to come, but I like having you here, in my home.” 

As conflicted as he was, Cougar didn’t want Jake to think he didn’t like it here. He turned in Jake’s embrace, and leaned up to kiss him gently. Jake kissed him back, slow and easy, and sighed in contentment.

When they pulled back, Cougar asked, “Did you know that cats are social animals?” Jake blinked in confusion. “They form packs, share their food. They make friends, bond with each other, care for each other.”

Jake had no idea what Cougar was getting at, that was clear, but he was unusually silent, letting Cougar talk.

“The big cats; tigers, leopards, bobcats-”

“Cougars?” Jake asked teasingly.

Cougar smiled a little, nodding in acknowledgement. 

“They do not bond with other big cats. Mothers, siblings, but not strangers. Not like the little cats. They do not know how to make friends. Little cats know how. Sometimes, a little cat will meet a big cat. The little cat will do all the work, _make_ them friends.” Cougar spread his hands apart. “Just like that, they are friends. Family. The big cat will share food with the little cat, a thing they would not do with their own kind, they will groom each other, cuddle. The big cat still won’t even know how it happened, but it has a friend.”

Jake swallowed hard.

“Am I the little cat?”

Cougar gave him a pointed look, questioning if Jake needed an answer.

“You’re friends with Pooch and Clay.”

Slowly, Cougar said, “Not before you.”

“Oh.”

Jake’s arms rubbed up and down Cougar’s arms as he absorbed what Cougar was saying..

“I… Thank you, for making friends with my family.”

Cougar smiled. “You make it easy.”

Something brightened in Jake’s eyes and he hooked his hand behind Cougar’s neck, and pulled him into a deep kiss. Jake nipped at Cougar’s lower lip and pushed his tongue into Cougar’s mouth. Even as he responded, Cougar knew there was something different about it and about the way Jake was holding his shoulders. There was a hunger there, or a desperate need, that made Cougar’s pulse race and his hands tighten on Jake’s hips. 

While their mouths were occupied, their hands got to work. Jake’s cupped Cougar’s ass, squeezing it through his jeans. Cougar’s hands worked beneath Jake’s shirt, catching the hem and yanking it over his head. It was the first time they broke their kiss, and they stilled for a moment. Jake’s eyes in the dim light of the room were dark and wide, filled with an emotion that had swelled Cougar’s own heart. 

Knowing Jake was on the verge of saying something dangerous, Cougar grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward the bed. Though Jake went with, he reversed the hold as they neared the bed, backing Cougar against it until his knees struck the edge. He fell back, staring up at Jake, intoxicated by this moment, of Jake’s canvas-covered knee pushing his open, his hands pulling roughly at Cougar’s belt, then his zipper. 

Even as he had stripped off Cougar’s clothes, Jake hadn’t broken eye contact. He hadn’t tried to speak again either, understanding in that way of his that Cougar didn’t want to talk. The look in his eyes left Cougar breathless, his heart pounding wildly, as he lay on the bed and watched as Jake kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants to the floor with Cougar’s. 

Normally during sex, Cougar was the more active of the two of them. Now all he could do was lift himself on his elbows as he drank in the sight of Jake naked. The room’s shadows played beautifully over Jake’s muscles, shifting as he moved and flexed. His nipples were small but prominent as his pecs were thick and well defined. Every single one of his muscles was, really. His abs were visible even when he wasn’t flexing, leading in even rows down to the thatch of dark blond hair around his cock. His cock was already hard, swinging heavily as he crawled onto the bed, leaving his knee between Cougar’s legs.

Cougar fell back onto the mattress, but reached out, grabbing two handfuls of Jake’s perfectly round ass. Moaning softly, Jake pushed his ass into Cougar’s hands as his own settled to either side of Cougar’s head. Then he ducked down into yet another kiss and Cougar gasped as lust surged through him from his toes to his gut. He arched upward, pressing their torsos together so their cocks brushed and pleasure tingled along his spine.

“Jake,” he whispered against Jake’s lips.

Jake groaned.

“I forgot the lube in the bag.”

“Get it.”

Instead of getting up, Jake kissed Cougar harder. Their mouths grew wet as their tongues slid together and Cougar’s hands explored the incredible muscles of Jake’s back, then slipped back down to grope and squeeze his ass once more.

With a curse, Jake finally jerked away. Cougar watched him go, admiring the perfection of his back, legs, and ass as much as he had his front. This had become one of Cougar’s favorite views. Jake’s legs were thick, firm muscles while his ass jiggled with each step, accented by his trim waist and broad shoulders. He didn’t get to stare long, however. Jake retrieved the lube in moments and hurried back to the bed.

“Where were we,” Jake purred before he was on Cougar again. 

With the lube in hand, Jake wasted no time slicking his fingers and pushing one into Cougar’s hole. In response to the invasion, Cougar cursed, breaking their kiss. Jake smirked at him, then curled the finger just so, so Cougar cursed again, louder. Tossing his head, he pushed his heels into the bed to lift himself up, giving Jake all that more room.

Jake chuckled and kissed him again.

“Shh, Cougs, Christ,” he said against Cougar’s lips.

It took all of Cougar’s self control to bite his lip and nod because Jake didn’t stop pressing inside him just right. Not even as he added another finger, then a third, so Cougar was writhing and gasping, his body filling with pleasure as pre-come dripped down his cock and pooled on his belly. He hung onto Jake’s shoulders, body rocking down onto each thrust of Jake’s hand, fucking himself open for Jake.

Then Jake pulled his fingers free and the empty feeling as his hole closed on nothing was awful. But Jake was lifting Cougar’s ankles over his shoulders, lining himself up, and pushing in with a quick thrust that pushed Cougar up the comforter. White lights burst behind Cougar’s eyelids as he was filled completely and fought from shouting.

With Jake out of reach, Cougar’s hands wound up in his hair, tugging as Jake started fucking him. Each thrust pushed him up the bed, only for Jake to use the hold he had on Cougar’s waist to pull him back down into the next thrust. The pleasure burst like fireworks each time, and with no way to release the tension, Cougar’s back bowed so he slid on his shoulders, his body an arch held in the air by Jake’s hands and hips. 

Even as his own pleasure grew, Cougar could hear Jake panting and grunting, enjoying every moment as much as he was. When Jake gasped out, “Cougar,” he knew it was over. And yet, he was on edge, but not ready to come himself.

“Jake,” he pleaded, but couldn’t find the rest of his words as Jake thrust into him again. 

Then a large hand wrapped around his cock and Cougar came undone. Pleasure exploded in his groin and his muscles tightened as the world went still and silent. His mouth opened in a silent cry and his cock spurted come between them as Jake’s thrusts became erratic. 

Distantly, Cougar was aware of heat pooling inside him, but every muscle in his body went abruptly loose and all his cares drifted away. He let himself stay there, humming contentedly, as Jake stilled, then slowly pulled out. Laxily, he looked up at him, but had to close his eyes again. 

Jake was looking at him like he’d hung the moon.

With his eyes shut, Cougar listened as Jake pulled on his pants, then stepped into the hall. Water ran through the pipes in the wall, and then the door opened again. Cougar was expecting the gentle touch of a wash cloth then and didn’t jump as the warm, rough fabric cleaned his stomach, then gently did the same for his cock and balls. 

Cougar expected Jake to join him, then, but he didn’t. The washcloth landed somewhere with a plop and a zipper was drawn down on one of their bags. 

As Jake said, “Hey,” the bed dipped by Cougar’s knees and Cougar had to open his eyes again. Jake smiled at him again with stars in his eyes and Cougar had to catch his breath. “I got you something.”

Only then did Cougar register the large, round box in Jake’s hands. 

Sitting up slowly, Cougar said, “Christmas is next week.”

Jake nodded and nervously ran his hands over the box’s lid.

“But I thought you could use it now. And… maybe I wanted to give it to you when we were alone.”

Raising an eyebrow at that, Cougar nevertheless reached out and took the gift from Jake’s hands. It was surprisingly light for its size, but the lid came off easily. Inside was a plain, brown leather cowboy hat. Cougar was thrown. The hat was clearly well made, but he had no idea how he was supposed to use it now, let alone ever.

“I know it’s not regulation,” Jake said, taking the hat from the box and set it carefully onto Cougar’s head. “But it’ll keep the sun out of your eyes better than a baseball cap. Plus,” he smirked and slowly tipped the brim forward so Jake disappeared from sight and the purpose of the gift clicked. Cougar could hide behind the hat, without hiding at all. 

With his index finger, Cougar pushed the brim of the hat up, and smiled at Jake. 

“It’s perfect.”

Jake’s eyes brightened. 

“It’s also weirdly sexy.”

Laughing, Cougar leaned in and kissed Jake gently. Then he took the hat off and set it on the bedside table. Behind him, Jake crawled under the covers, then pulled Cougar to him. As he settled against Cougar, head pillowed on his chest, Cougar closed his eyes tightly. He couldn’t risk losing this. It would break him in ways nothing had before, and nothing else could. So he couldn’t tell Jake how he felt. That was his curse: he told people he loved them, and he lost them forever. For Jake, and for himself, he had to keep his feelings to himself.


	5. You can't save everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s Note**  
You should really watch the movie at this point. It’s a good movie. Have fun.
> 
> If you refuse…. Here’s what you need to know:
> 
> A bad guy named Max killed twenty-five kids on the Losers’ watch. They’re presumed dead and are hiding in Bolivia having been blamed for the deaths of the kids. Some are looking for a way home, some are looking for revenge.

Bolivia was hot and sticky. As he lay on his back staring up at the slowly rotating fan on his ceiling, Jake thought he should be used to it by now. He’d been dropped into Central American rainforests for the past five years. They’d been in this particular sweat factory for a week after two long ones spent trekking out of the jungle to a city big enough to hide two gringos. Pooch, Roque, and Cougar fit in just fine, but Jake and Clay stood out like sore thumbs. Seeing as they were supposed to be dead, sticking out wasn’t exactly a great idea.

For the thousandth time since Max, Jake considered calling in the Avengers. Max seemed like an Avengers-level threat, the kind of bad guy they’d have taken out back in the day. And yet he knew it was a bad idea. The news, both here in Bolivia and back in the States, was splashed with the faces of those poor kids. Everyone wanted vengeance and justice, but the U.S. was disavowing all knowledge of the op and the Losers. If they weren’t all ‘dead’ in a helicopter explosion it would have been bad, and it was already a class A cluster-fuck.

Jake rubbed his arm absently as he tried to think of a way the Avengers could spin Captain America being involved in the deaths of those kids. _‘We didn’t do it,’_ wasn’t going to cut it. There was no proof Max existed. If there was, Clay or he would have found it by now. Max plain didn’t exist. It was a neat trick, one Fury might have known how to pull, but calling Fury meant risking pulling in the Avengers and Jake could just _see_ the headlines now:

_ **Missing Captain America Found after Slaughtering 25 Bolivian Children!** _

_Yeah, that’d help them find Max_, he thought sarcastically. What that would do was ruin any chance they actually had at finding Max and making him pay for what he’d done. He’d go underground and let the press eat them alive. The trial would be brutal, played out on the world stage, and they’d end up dead in a prison to ensure their silence.

Sighing, Jake let his arms stretch out above his head as he gave up the last lingering thoughts of calling in the calvary. Maybe Bucky, Nat and Clint could keep all this under wraps, but they were spies. The _Avengers_ were a bit more high profile. No, if he wanted Max dealt with, the Losers were going to have to do it themselves.

Feet hit the floor in the room next door; Cougar, awake at last. They weren’t sharing a room because… Well, Jake wasn’t entirely sure why. It had something to do with those dead kids, Cougar’s guilt, and Jake, but the exact combination had been lost on him, seeing as Cougar was avoiding him entirely. Which, considering they knew no one in Bolivia, was a neat trick. If they’d been home, if Jake had anyone else, he might have waited Cougar out, but he _didn’t_ have anyone else to talk to, and for that matter, neither did Cougar.

And he missed his boyfriend.

Though Cougar was quick, showering in just five minutes, and moving about as quietly as a cat, Jake was still waiting outside his room. Supersoldier hearing was cheating, according to Sam, Tony, and Wanda, but Jake thought it was just a nice advantage for situations like this.

As expected, Cougar didn’t look happy to see him, but it was worse than Jake had expected. Cougar’s expressive mouth was pulled down into a deep frown, his jaw was set, making its hard lines stronger. His brown eyes sparked with abrupt anger at the mere sight of one Jake Jensen. If looks could kill, Jake would be a very dead man, and he didn’t even know what it was he’d done. 

Not that he thought any of this was about him; not really.

Without a word, Cougar tried to walk away and Jake almost let him, but it had been a week without even an _unspoken_ word, and he was tired, lonely, and homesick. He was also damned worried about Cougar, who wasn’t handling _any_ of this very well. 

Stepping into Cougar’s path, Jake earned himself a glare.

“Enough,” he said, pitching his voice soft but firm. “You haven’t spoken to anyone in three weeks. You can’t keep going like this.”

Jake expected a silent, “_I can do what ever the fuck I want_”. He did _not_ expect the pure rage that looked like it suffused Cougar’s body. His fists clenched, eyes burning, and a muscle jumped in his cheek from how hard he was grinding his teeth. It made him all the more beautiful, really, which was probably not what Cougar was going for. He still didn’t speak, though, so Jake was happy to appreciate the show.

“Why are you so mad at _me_?” Jake asked. “I didn’t kill those kids, Cougs.”

Cougar’s hand slashed through the air, demanding Jake’s silence. If Cougar wanted him to be quiet, though, he was going to have to actually say something. Especially if he was _this_ angry.

“No, I won’t. I _didn’t_ kill those kids. _You_ didn’t kill those kids. Acti-” 

Jake closed his mouth with a snap as the rage seemed to bleed out of Cougar, replaced with a deep, soul-eating guilt. Proof that this wasn’t about him at all. All of Cougar’s anger and pain was simply being directed at him because he was a target within reach, unlike Max. And attacking Jake was likely easier than facing his own guilt and self-hatred. Jake had seen it time and time again; a soldier facing the death of people who should never have died and blaming themselves, then lashing out at everyone around them. This millennia they had even given it a name: survivor’s guilt.

For a moment, Jake wondered how Wanda was coping with hers before forcing himself to focus on the man before him.

“Cougs, it wasn’t your fault. We tried everything we could to save those kids, just like every other job. This time, it didn’t… we couldn’t…” He stopped, pushing aside the memory of burning wreckage falling to the ground. “We _always_ try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. We gotta live with that, or next time nobody gets saved.”

Shaking his head, Cougar bared his teeth as he spat, “That is how you justify it? You _tried_?”

Jake was so surprised by the questions, he only barely noted that Cougar had actually spoken at last.

“I did everything I could,” Jake said, holding his palms toward Cougar. “There’s nothing I have that beats a missile, Cougs.” Only Tony or Rhodey could have dealt with that fighter jet, and neither could have gotten there in time to stop it anyways.

Another slash of Cougar’s hand through the air between them.

“If you had contacted the pilot, told him-”

Despite knowing this still wasn’t about him, Jake couldn’t help but interrupt. “You don’t think I tried? I did _everything_ I could! I can’t ask more from myself and neither can you, Cougar.”

Cougar swung his head side to side, refusing to listen, or hear, or acknowledge Jake’s point. Maybe all three.

“We should have saved them. Los angelitos… We _should have saved them_.”

Jake tried to reach for Cougar, touch his shoulder, hold him, anything, but Cougar dodged away from his touch. Not sure what to do with his hands, they flitted through the air as he said, “You have to accept that we can’t save everyone. I have."

“Bullshit,” Cougar spat, his lips white with anger. “That missile was meant for us!”

It was only the ache in his chest at the thought of Cougar in a million, thousand pieces, that kept Jake from shouting back at his boyfriend now.

“And what would that do? Max would still be out there doing god knows what. We can stop him. We can make him pay for what he’s done.”

“Fuck you.”

Jake’s blood ran hot, but he held himself still as stone. He couldn’t hold back his glare, though, and didn’t try. If Cougar was going to be an ass, Jake couldn’t stop him.

“Succinct as always.”

Cougar’s lip curled in a sneer. For a long moment, they simply glared at each other. Then Cougar adjusted his hat, spat on the ground, and stalked down the hallway. The door frame rattled with the force used to slam the door and Jake didn’t follow. Part of him screamed to run after Cougar, but there was no point. Nothing he had to say would bring back those kids and that was the only cure for Cougar’s guilt.

With his own past, he had a hand up on survivor’s guilt. He’d learned how to deal with it a long time ago, thanks to Bucky, Pietro, and countless others. That didn’t make it easy. That didn’t stop him from being angry, or from hurting, but he knew the truth.

“You can’t save everyone,” he reminded himself. 

Then he put on his shoes and went to find a bar. Maybe they’d have something in Bolivia strong enough to get him drunk.

\----

Jake was sitting with two empty bottles of tequila beneath the chipped, multi-colored string of lights on the outdoor balcony of the bar when they found him. He was half-way through a third bottle to no effect, but there was a breeze out here and he was alone in the night. Street lights illuminated the brightly colored buildings as well as the roads. It was late, but the city bustled. Foot traffic weaved beneath him, groups and loners, food trucks and carts, with the occasional police patrol car. 

Bolivia was beautiful. 

Metal scraped across concrete as the chair to his left was pulled out from his table. It said something about his mind set that all he did was turn his head to see who was presuming to join him. It said more that all he did was nod to Natasha as she flipped the chair about and straddled the back.

“You don’t call, you don’t write...” She tossed her auburn curls over her shoulder and smiled that come-hither lie she was so good at. “A girl could get a complex.”

Jake didn’t smile. He should, but he could still feel the hate in Cougar’s eyes burning a hole through his heart. He managed a twist of his lips and tried to play along with the witty banter.

“The dead don’t make phone calls.”

A cold, solid hand wrapped about his as he lifted the bottle of tequila again. He sighed and let Bucky have the bottle. Like Natasha, he was dressed head to toe in black. Even the arm was covered, but not his hand which gleamed with a reflection of the multi-colored lights above them.

“Calling isn’t the only way to tell us you aren’t dead.”

Looking at his former lover and lifelong brother, Jake couldn’t find the humor any more.

“Couldn’t - can’t. Not with these headlines.”

“You’ve gotten better at the doubletalk,” Natasha said as she swiped the bottle and took a sip. 

Jake found a smile at that, even if it was a small thing.

“They teach classes for idiots when you graduate to tier one operator.”

Natasha was about to speak, say something pithy and amusing to make him smile again, when Bucky interrupted.

“I thought you were dead.”

Slowly, Jake closed his eyes. He allowed himself a moment of guilt, before turning to Bucky to face his choices.

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky stared at him for a long moment, weighing what he’d said with his apology, with their history. Then he hooked an arm around Jake’s shoulders and pulled him into a rough hug. Jake fell into him, holding him hard, needing that contact as much because of those kids as because of Cougar.

Because he knew Jake, Bucky waited in silence until Jake pulled himself together enough to pull away. Then he pointed at the bottle Natasha was nursing and asked, “Not holding up well?”

Jake shrugged and answered shortly, “Had a fight with Cougar.”

“You and Mr. Perfect Smile?” Natasha asked, surprised. She rested an elbow on the table, leaning into Jake. “I thought you two were going the distance?”

“Bucky,” Jake groaned.

Bucky flashed him a dimpled smile. “You two are great together, deny it.”

Shaking his head, Jake said, “Tragedy breaks you apart, or pulls you together. We’ve chosen broken.”

“And by ‘we’ you mean ‘he’,” Bucky said. 

It was true, so Jake didn’t deny it.

“Not everyone is like us,” Jake motioned to Natasha to include her in the sentiment. “Twenty five kids, Buck, and on our watch. He’s grieving and blames himself.”

“And you.”

Just to touch someone still _alive_, Jake tucked a stray lock of Natasha’s hair behind her ear. She smiled at him sadly and said, “You can’t save everyone.”

“No,” Jake sighed and let his hand fall to the table, “No, you can’t. I know we did everything we could. _I_ did everything I could. No one could have saved those kids. If we’d had Sam or Tony or Rhodey on deck, yeah, sure. But it was an off-books op, that’s how Max runs shit -”

“Max?” Bucky interrupted, leaning in so the tops of their heads almost brushed. Red, brown, and blond all tinted green and blue by the lights. Jake wondered what his team would think if he saw them sitting here.

“The son of a bitch who sent my unit out here, who ordered that compound bombed while _knowing_ those kids were there. The fucker who blew up our helo. The helo we had filled with kids because we got a ride out, or they did, and we couldn’t leave them.” Jake closed his eyes, seeing those trusting, smiling faces. Remembering the sound of their laughter and the smell of burning jet fuel. “He killed them. It was supposed to be us, but he didn’t know we weren’t on that helo, so here we are.”

When he opened his eyes, Jake found Natasha and Bucky sharing a look.

“I’ll welcome any intel,” he said, forestalling what he knew what was coming, “but this can’t be official. Max is a fucking ghost. He’s goddamned invisible, and any publicity this gets will make it even harder to find the prick.” They didn’t look convinced, so he added, “I’ve run the math, guys. This one is on your level, but we only win from the shadows.”

“By being dead,” Bucky said softly.

Jake nodded.

“I’m gonna find him and we’ll end him.”

Natasha looked skeptical.

“From here?” she asked, looking around to make her point. “With what money?”

Since he didn’t really have an answer yet, Jake shrugged.

“The plan comes after I find him. For now, recon.”

“Fine,” Bucky said, earning a look from Natasha, “but you call the second we can help.”

“The millisecond,” Jake agreed.

“And Cougar -”

Jake nipped that in the bud quickly.

“Not ready.”

Bucky looked at him hard, but Natasha set the tequila on the table by Jake’s hand. She rose to her feet, walked around Jake and kissed Bucky on the cheek.

“I’ll get us more booze.”

“More booze!” Jake agreed, raising his bottle. 

That had Bucky cracking a small smile.

“You can’t even get drunk.”

Jake grinned as he said, “I haven’t tried with tequila before.”

Bucky laughed, and Jake knew he was forgiven. 

They drank for hours thanks to Nat’s pocketful of cash. Bucky and Nat caught him up with Avengers gossip, the latest Avenging, and even how they’d found him (which Jake would use to hide more efficiently). They probably would have kept talking until the sun rose if smoke and sirens hadn’t filled the night air. The three were instantly alert, trying to find the source of the commotion and if their particular brand of help was needed by the locals.

Jake cursed when he saw the building that was crackling with flames and billowing clouds of black ash into the sky.

“What?” Natasha prompted as Bucky glanced his way.

“That’s my hotel.”

\----

**Author’s Note**  
This scene takes place after the movie. Did you watch it? If you didn’t…

Max attempted to blow up Los Angeles, but the Losers stopped him. Well, Roque betrayed them, but Cougar killed him. Jake got shot, Pooch got shot, Cougar wouldn’t let anyone touch his hat, and then Max got away.

\----

Since Jake hadn’t left the yellow hummer Pooch had acquired, Cougar had no choice but to climb inside if he wanted to talk. Yet he stood outside for many long moments just staring at the flickering light he could just see behind the blacked out windows. Jake, doing one of the many, many things he did that Cougar only vaguely understood. Jake never made fun of anyone for mocking his many eccentricities. No, Jake was always understanding because he was the gentlest, kindest man Cougar had ever known. He’d never intentionally hurt anyone. When Cougar was with Jake, his heart was in the safest hands.

And yet, he stood outside the limo and didn’t try to enter. 

How was he supposed to make everything up to Jake if he couldn’t explain himself? Confess his feelings? A simple apology wasn’t enough, not after what he’d done. And even knowing Jake would never push him away, he couldn’t stop being afraid. Every chance Jake had held out his hand, and it was always Cougar who had slapped it away. Cougar flirting with any woman he could find, kissing them just to dig the knife in a little harder to try to make Jake suffer the way he was suffering. 

Instead of getting mad though, Jake had taken it as some kind of game, flirting with other women as well. He’d been so bad at it, which had surprised Cougar, considering how easily he’d rolled Cougar into bed and wrapped him around his heart. Maybe that had been on purpose, or maybe Jake really wasn’t into women. Cougar didn’t know; he’d never asked.

For a long time, Cougar had simply thought Roque and Jake the same: unaffected by the deaths of los angelitos, those poor kids. Cougar couldn’t understand how they couldn’t care, couldn’t still feel their loss, or feel any guilt over failing them. And then Aisha had come around and Jake had given his all to find Max, to right the wrong done to those children, while all Roque had wanted was to go home, to stop fighting. Then Roque had betrayed them and he’d realized Jake was nothing like Roque. 

No, it was _Cougar_ who was like Roque. He had turned on them the same way Cougar had turned on Jake. Or would have if he had kept drowning in his guilt and blaming Jake for not doing more. 

Jake had been right. He couldn’t save everyone, but Cougar _had_ saved Clay today, he’d saved Jake last night, and they’d stopped Max’s plan to kill everyone in L.A. If they’d died in that chopper, Max would have gotten away with it and millions more would be dead. Millions more angels. That didn’t make up for losing twenty-five young lives, but nothing ever would. Apologizing to Jake would help.

Killing Max would help _a lot_.

‘_I love you_,’ Cougar wanted to tell Jake’s light, ‘_I was wrong. I’m sorry._

Even with Jake unable to hear him, Cougar couldn’t say the words. His throat tightened and his heart beat so hard he thought he might pass out. And why? Jake wasn’t going to turn him away. Jake wasn’t going to use any vulnerability against him. This fear that had kept him safe for so long was now holding him back, keeping him from Jake. 

Cougar missed him fiercely. Missed how he babbled yet never really said anything important unless you asked. And Cougar hadn’t asked, hadn’t thought his questions mattered that much. Now there were so many things he didn’t know about Jake, things he wanted to learn, things he should have known. Was Jake bisexual? Why did he wear glasses he didn’t need? Why had he dyed his hair blond when he was already blond? Why did he pretend to be so bad at flirting? Why did Roque threatening to cut off Aisha’s head make him think of his parents? How was he able to move on from the loss of those kids so easily? 

Why did he follow Cougar even after he’d been so cruel? 

Every fiber of Cougar’s being itched to open that door and ask his questions, and every single part of him was terrified of the answers. The fear remained stupid, because Cougar knew at least one of those answers: Jake loved him. Cougar had spent weeks going out of his way to hurt Jake, and Jake had just taken it, played with him. 

Taking a deep breath, Cougar willed himself to reach for the door handle, and felt relief wash over him as his hand actually grabbed the black lever and pulled. To his surprise, it wasn’t locked. The yellow door opened for him, exposing the interior lit only by the glow of Jake’s laptop. Jake didn’t look up, just kept his focus on his work, telling Cougar he’d known Cougar was outside. Telling him he didn’t expect Cougar to speak to him now. 

He had done this, Cougar reminded himself. He’d widened the rift between them all on his own. It was his to close.

Shutting the door, Cougar engaged the locks and slid into the seat across from Jake. There was no sound beside the creak of leather and the tap of fingers against keys, pausing here and there as Jake thought, or tweaked his code. 

“_What are you doing?_” Cougar didn’t ask. He found once again that his mouth was glued shut. He tried to shout, “_I love you_,” and “_I’m sorry_.” 

The silence strangled him. The warmth of the limo’s interior became suffocating. Each tap against the keyboard became a pounding boom that echoed in his head. And Jake still didn’t even look at him, kept his eyes on the computer screen, the black and white lines of code reflected in his glasses.

Cougar drew in a ragged breath, closed his eyes, and tried to will himself calm again. He grew dizzy instead. His chest ached as he tried to draw breath to speak, to tell Jake everything, but no sound escaped him. He didn’t even notice when the pounding of Jake’s fingers stopped.

A hand wrapped around Cougar’s bicep and his eyes popped open. Jake’s muted blue eyes watched him. They were filled with concern and worry, the laptop itself blocked from view.

Jake murmured, “Hey, shh, it’s okay.” 

Cougar shook his head hard, his hair flying about his face.

Jake reached for him again, pushing his hand through Cougar’s hair. Touching him as the hand on Cougar’s bicep pushed behind him, pulled him toward Jake, held him. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes as that longed-for warmth enveloped him. Jake embraced him without hesitation. Cougar didn’t deserve it, and yet he couldn’t push it away. He clung to it, hands fisted in Jake’s shirt, his face pushed into the ‘V’ between his pecs. 

“It’s okay,” Jake said again. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

_We_.

Cougar’s heart broke. Jake didn’t know why Cougar was here, didn’t know what was wrong, but he assumed there was a ‘we’. He assumed Cougar was still his. Even after everything. 

It took everything he had, but Cougar choked out, “I’m sorry.”

Jake’s arms tightened around him, holding him so hard it almost hurt, but when he tried to pull back, Jake held on to him harder, keeping him in place.

“Idiot,” Jake murmured against Cougar’s temple, “I forgave you ages ago. I’ve just missed you.”

“I…”

The words caught in his throat and Jake said, “You don’t have to,” but he was wrong. Cougar _did_ have to. They couldn’t let things stay like this. Jake deserved better. He deserved more. 

Why didn’t he see that?

“I…” Cougar said again and this time Jake didn’t try to stop him. He kissed his temple, his left eye, his nose, then his right. His lips brushed his cheeks as their eyelashes touched. It felt wonderful; Cougar felt loved. A feeling he wanted Jake to have and one he knew Jake didn’t feel. Because while Cougar knew Jake loved him, Cougar had been unable to show him the same.

And he couldn’t say it.

“Missed you,” Cougar said, his voice rough as sandpaper. “I’m sorry. I -” 

Jake kissed him, cutting off the words he so badly wanted to say. The kiss was fierce and strong, like Jake was trying to kiss away Cougar’s fear. The hat fell to the floor and Cougar didn’t even consider reaching for it, despite nearly getting shot for it earlier that same day.

When he pulled back, Jake demanded, “Stop, just stop. I hate seeing you like this.” 

Cougar blinked at him, confused by the words as much as he was struggling to simply think after that kiss. 

“You’re shaking.” Was he? Yes, Cougar realized, he was. He was also cold everywhere Jake wasn’t touching him. “Say anything else. Something simple, stupid, just… Whatever it is, you can say it later.”

Curling a hand over Jake’s bicep, Cougar reminded himself there might not be a later. Aisha hadn’t killed Jake, though. She could have, but she’d just wounded him. Even with a weapon, he would have been the obvious target to anyone who knew them. Jake was their soft spot. Seeing him fly out of sight, hearing that shot echoing through the room, it had thrown them all for a heartbeat. Their aim had shattered and Aisha had gotten away. Cougar and Pooch hadn’t even chased after her. They’d gone to Jake.

Half the team down in one hit, and she had merely wounded him.

“I’m fine,” Jake whispered. “You’re fine, even though you tried to earn a hole in your head.”

Cougar snorted, dismissing the thought. 

“No one touches the hat.”

To Cougar’s surprise, Jake melted at that. He shone a soft, fond smile at Cougar and reached down to pick up Cougar’s hat. Gently, he set it on Cougar’s head.

“Yeah, no one.”

_Oh_, Cougar thought as his breath caught in his chest and Jake cupped his head, moving in for another kiss. _Maybe he does know._

\----

Hours later, they were naked and tangled on the limo floor as the seats weren’t big enough to fit them both. The privacy of the place finally made sense to Cougar, enough that he wondered if Jake had known he would come back. Most likely he’d just hoped, but that was so sad, Cougar decided Jake had known all Cougar had needed was time. Cougar didn’t have that faith in himself, though. He had to change, make sure he’d never leave Jake alone again. Make sure he couldn’t regret all those questions he hadn’t asked. How he was going to get past this speaking thing. He wasn’t sure, but he was going to figure it out if it killed him.

No time like the present.

“Your parents,” Cougar said without lifting his head from the comfortable pillow he’d made of Jake’s arm, “they fought a lot?”

Jake chuckled and shook his head, gently rocking Cougar where he lay on his side.

“No, man, they went to _war_. Dad was abusive, but Mom was proud and strong. She never backed down no matter how he threatened her, and she fought back in her own way. The morning after a bender, she’d empty all the bottles of booze and say he’d drunk them. When he’d had one too many, she’d tie his shoelaces together so he couldn’t leave the house and get into trouble.”

Cougar frowned, not knowing what to say. Jake said it so easily, even with amusement, as if he wasn’t describing a terrible childhood. It didn’t sound like the whole story, either.

“Did he ever…?”

“Hit me?” Jake finished, glancing down at Cougar before lying back to stare up at the felt-covered ceiling. “Nah. Mom would have killed him and he knew it. She was a nurse; would have gotten away with it, too. Dad was terrified of Mom.”

“What happened to them?”

“War happened and Dad died, Mom got sick.” Jake’s lips thinned, the first real sign of emotion he’d shown. “She didn’t make it.”

Cougar rolled further onto Jake, splaying over his chest, and kissed his sternum. That had Jake smiling, if only slightly, and reaching down to thread his fingers into the hair above Cougar’s neck.

“I’m okay. I just miss her - not him, he was a bastard, but she was a saint.”

Cougar teased, “Momma’s boy,” and Jake grinned.

“Damn right.”

“Do you like women?”

Jake looked down at him, an eyebrow raised inquiringly.

“Since when do you play twenty questions?”

“_Since I almost lost you twice_,” Cougar wanted to say, but it was too vulnerable. The kind of thing that would drive Jake from him (he knew it wouldn’t), or have Jake taken from him because he always lost the people he loved. 

Cougar’s eyes found Jake’s shoulder, the white bandage wrapped neatly around a through-and-through. He would never forget that Aisha’s gun had been pointed at Jake’s head.

“I don’t _not_ like women.” Cougar looked up in surprise since he hadn’t answered Jake’s question, but Jake wasn’t looking down at him any more. He was staring at the ceiling again with his hand in Cougar’s hair. “I’ve kissed a few, but…” He shrugged, hesitated, then said quickly, “I’m kind of attached to you.”

Cougar closed his eyes as his heart swelled, then pressed his cheek to Jake’s chest and squeezed him with all his strength. The breath wheezed out of Jake and Cougar smiled. Cougar couldn’t say it yet, but he would. One day.

“Any more questions, my curious kitty?”

“Many.”

“Go on, then.”

“Los angelitos…” Cougar felt Jake tense beneath him and hesitated before forging on. “Before them, there was someone. Who did you not save?”

The breath wheezed out of Jake like the question was a sucker punch. Cougar sat up quickly and was shocked to see the naked grief on Jake’s face. He’d closed his eyes, but it was there in every line etched into his skin and the way he suddenly looked a century older. Cougar had never seen this expression on Jake, nor had he seen him so upset, and Cougar hated himself for ever thinking Jake had been okay with the deaths of children.

No longer sure that he wanted an answer, Cougar said, “You cannot save everyone.”

Jake breathed out, “No,” and when he looked at Cougar, Cougar almost wished he was wearing his glasses so the pain wouldn’t be so easy to see, “you can’t.”

“I’m sorry.” The words came easier this time, even if he wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for asking or for leaving Jake alone with this burden. When Jake tried to protest and absolve Cougar of his guilt, Cougar said it again, only louder. “I’m sorry.”

Instead of speaking this time, Jake pushed Cougar’s hair out of his face, then let it fall back into his eyes so Jake could run his palms up and down Cougar’s arms.

“Yeah, okay. Just… I haven’t been mad, Cougs. I know how hard this is. Sure, the girls were annoying and that hurt, but I always understood you didn’t mean it. If this had been… something small, like you hate my music, I would have been furious, but it’s not a small thing. Those kids…”

“Los angelitos.”

Jake nodded and inhaled shakily.

“Those kids deserved better. In Bolivia, you couldn’t see how we’d give them any justice.” 

Cougar blinked in surprise, but slowly acknowledged that with a nod.

“Can you see it now?”

Sitting up, Cougar grabbed Jake’s laptop and pulled it closer. There were several command screens open, one spitting out words faster than he could read, and a messaging app blinking with over forty messages from someone whose name was just a red and black hourglass.

“What were you doing?”

Though Cougar was already expecting the answer, it was satisfying to hear Jake say, “Finding Max.”

Cougar showed his teeth in a grin.

“I know you will. You will get me - get los angelitos - justice.”

Jake surged up, grabbing Cougar by the nape and yanking him in for a kiss. Teeth clacked together, nipped at lips, and their tongues met to play as Jake kissed Cougar for all he was worth. He lifted Cougar with all that power he hid behind bright loose-fitting t-shirts and baggy cargo pants, and settled him into his lap. The heat from his cock brushing between his cheeks set Cougar on fire, so he wasn’t protesting when he asked, “Again? Already?”

“God, yes,” Jake groaned, fumbling for the lube wherever it had landed.

Then the laptop trilled a victory song - Final Fantasy, Jake had once told him - and Jake stopped. He pressed his forehead to Cougar’s and groaned again, but this time without pleasure.

“What?” Cougar asked. 

When Jake didn’t immediately answer or move, he nipped at Jake’s lip. That got him another groan, this time the sound of a man who knew they were going to spend the night frustrated.

“My worm got into Max’s system. I need to…” He swayed, rocking so their bodies slid together in a delicious slide. “Before they find it… but…”

It pained Cougar, but he climbed off Jake’s lap and grabbed the laptop. He handed it to Jake even as he pouted. Thankfully, Cougar was immune to Jake’s pouting.

Mostly.

“I’ll be here when you are done,” Cougar promised. 

“If you stay naked I won’t be able to concentrate.”

Cougar smirked.

“Consider it incentive to finish faster.”

Jake’s eyes deliberately dragged over Cougar’s skin, taking him all in. His cock twitched, he took a deep breath, and then nodded.

“I got this.”

There was no doubt in Cougar’s mind that he did.


	6. The wrong Avenger

Clay’s lighter _click, clacked_ in the silence of the warehouse they were squatting in. Jake had gathered them together on purpose for the first time since Roque had died and Max had gotten away. Their brief vacation from the fight to visit Jolene and Jess had been sunlight on a rainy day, but it was over. They had a job to do and it wouldn’t be done until they’d brought justice to Max.

“This information is reliable?” Clay finally asked.

The Losers had been listening to Jake’s plan for the last half-hour, the plan he’d crafted with Natasha. She’d been the one to inject his worm into SHIELD’s servers that had gotten him the intel he needed, intel SHIELD hadn’t even known they had since they didn’t know who Max was. Jake did, though, and he knew how to use it.

Jake nodded to Clay.

“I’d trust her with my life, but she just got me in. I made the worm and took it from there so most of this intel is from me.”

Nodding, Clay leaned back and Jake was relieved to see how much trust the colonel still had in him.

“Then I say we hit him.”

“Let’s kill him,” Aisha snarled.

Cougar merely said, “I’m in.”

Then everyone’s gaze turned to Pooch. With a child no longer on the way, but here, they weren’t sure if he was still in. No one would blame him if he didn’t go, not for a second. That didn’t change how much they needed him. 

Pooch scowled at Jake’s laptop.

“We’re sure the intel will be there?”

Jake nodded.

“The server isn’t on the network, but I found several references to storing information on it. Information we can use to bring down Max for good.”

“And kill him,” Aisha said, because she was singled minded like that.

Pooch took a deep breath and squared his jaw.

“Okay. Let’s end this.”

Jake smiled. It was about damned time.

\----

By now, the Losers were pros at data snatch jobs. Jake was in inside ten minutes, with Pooch standing by to pick him up. Cougar, Clay and Aisha were outside, keeping watch on various parts of the simple commercial building Max was using to store these particular servers. To be honest, Jake had expected the whole thing to be a lot harder, but their recon had shown Max had chosen to go low profile on this one, likely using that as his defense instead of Crytek guards and massive security. 

Surrounded by towers of blinking lights and humming hardware, Jake plugged his USB into the server’s port and watched his root program go to work. Systems were called up one by one as it bored through them, finding him admin access to everything stored here. Using that access, the program would hunt for the data they needed; anything on Bolivia or the Port of L.A., or what Max was planning next was download to his portable harddrive, as he couldn’t go through it all right here. 

Hard proof of any of Max’s deeds could clear their names and get them assistance. Max had done too good a job smearing the Losers and hiding his own schemes from everyone - S.H.I.E.L.D., the F.B.I., everyone. Whatever proof they brought forward would have to be irrevocable. 

“Jensen, status,” Clay ordered over their mics.

“About a quarter of the way done,” Jake answered. “I’ve got a lot of records here, but I’m running a grip to see -”

“I don’t know what that means,” Clay interrupted. “Get it done.”

Jake sighed - because _obviously_ \- and said, “Give me fifteen.”

“Copy.”

“Get it done, he says,” Jake mumbled. “What do they think I’m doing?”

Pooch said, “We can hear you, man.”

“I know. I _know_. I set up these coms. I am amazing and none of you acknowledges it.”

Cougar grunted.

“Okay,” Jake conceded, “You acknowledge it, but you’re exceptional.”

Clay growled, “Stop flirting over my coms.”

“You stop flirting over _my_ coms,” Jake shot back. Which, okay, didn’t make a lot of sense, but it also didn’t _not_ make sense, since Clay and Aisha were weird. “And how do you know we’re flirting, huh?”

Cougar snorted, which meant _everyone_ knew about him and Cougar, and when had _that_ happened? Apparently while Jake wasn’t paying attention. 

The search results from his grip returned as Pooch said, “J, I hate to break it to you, but we have _always_ known about you and Cougar.”

Jake opened the first document that matched his custom search parameters.

“Nuh uh. There’s no way Roque wouldn’t have said something.”

Cougar said, “He did,” and Jake almost stopped reading as that sank in. Roque hadn’t said anything to _Jak,e_ which meant Cougar had definitely threatened Roque. That was hot and probably shouldn’t be. 

Aisha snapped, “Jensen, focus.”

“I am focused,” Jake grumbled, but he shut up. 

Mostly. 

If he started singing Todrick Hall’s _Boys_, then that was all Pooch and Clay’s fault. And if Cougar chuckled, then that was all the encouragement he needed. Truthfully, it helped him focus too. Something about occupying part of his brain helped the rest of his brain focus. He’d soon sorted through a dozen documents, all shipping manifestos, and he’d noticed a pattern. Each document had sent the same very large something via plane and truck all over the world. They had all came from the same location in Nevada too, which was interesting.

A quick modification to his search told him that over two-hundred of “Dirty Box X”s had been shipped from the same place. On a hunch, he searched to see if anything had been delivered there, and found a few more shipping documents. Both contained a single item, shipped in quantities that stole the breath from Jake’s lungs.

Immediately, Cougar asked, “Jake?” as he’d stopped singing.

“That’ son of a bitch,” Jake whispered.

“Report, Corporal,” Clay ordered.

Jake swallowed.

“What do you get when you import a bunch of depleted uranium and export a bunch of nameless dirty boxes all over the world?”

“Jake,” Clay growled.

Aisha gasped.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Jake took a deep breath. “Clay, Max has placed dirty bombs literally all over the fucking planet.”

No one responded. For a moment, Jake thought they were stunned silent. Then the terminal he’d plugged into flashed to a red hourglass spinning on a black screen. The symbol of the Black Widow, of Natasha Romanoff, and he knew he’d sprung a trap.

“Wrong Avenger,” Jake told the screen as he yanked his USB from the server and half-shouted. “We’re made. Anyone copy?”

Slamming his bag shut, Jake slung it across his body and sprinted toward the entrance. No one spoke over the coms and Jake’s chest was tight with fear. Somehow, Max had known they were coming. Well, he’d known _Natasha_ was coming, which meant the intel she’d helped him gather hadn’t been as unnoticed as they’d thought. 

Jake made it halfway to his exit when the dizziness washed over him. He stumbled, tripped, and gasped as black walls began to encroached on his vision. His strength was fading quickly and he barely pushed himself back to his feet. It didn’t matter. He managed a few more steps before he fell forward and everything went black.


	7. He’s not dead

Jake struggled in the darkness. It weighed on him, heavy and suffocating. He struggled to swim through it, or escape, but his limbs wouldn't obey his brain. He couldn't open his eyes or speak. He could hear, though, and he wished he couldn't.

Somewhere outside the black, Cougar was praying. 

Cougar only prayed when things were really, _really_ bad, and Jake didn’t know why he was praying now. There had been the server room, they’d been caught and…

Jake struggled and fought to leave the black, to get to Cougar, to fix whatever had gone so wrong, but it was like swimming through tar. Except he wasn't swimming at all considering he couldn't move his limbs. 

With a desperate lurch, Jake opened his eyes and _screamed_. His head was on fire, a sharp, all-encompassing pain like nothing he'd ever felt. There was nothing but the pain, not even the memory of why he had fought so hard to reach it. Someone was holding onto his arms and he was too weak to fight them off, reach for the piercing, stabbing something that was making his vision red.

Distantly, he realized that was probably blood.

“How is he even _alive?!_”

“Jake! Calmate!”

“Jesus _Christ!_”

“_Is he a zombie?!_”

Jake barely registered the voices, couldn't listen to their words. The pain wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. It wouldn't _stop_! It was too much, too _much, too much_.

The blackness rushed up and he dove back into it gratefully, sinking down, letting it take him. He tried to apologize to Cougar, remembering that was why he'd left this place at all, but didn't know if he managed. 

\----

For once, Cougar wasn’t ashamed that his hands were shaking. How could his hands _not_ shake? Max had shot Jake in the head. The back of Jake’s head was _missing_. Blood poured steadily down the drain in the middle of their cell. It had stopped gushing, though. Not because Jake was dying, or running out of blood; that would have made sense. No, Jake was _healing_. Max had shot him point blank in the face - with a .22, sure, but _in the face_ \- and Jake had survived. 

Was surviving. 

Was _alive_.

Jake’s chest shuddered out another breath. Each one was easier than the last, like he really was healing. That wasn’t possible, but Cougar couldn’t deny what his eyes were seeing. Jake breathed in and out, the bleeding slowed, and his pulse remained strong.

After being shot in the face.

In it’s own way, Jake’s survival was more terrifying than if he had died. Max was sure to make his death permanent when he discovered that his plan hadn’t worked to perfection. Even if they escaped this cell - which Cougar didn’t think was possible - he wasn’t sure Jake would survive. Cougar had done what he could; rolled Jake onto his side, pillowed the intact portion of his head on his and Clay’s shirts, and wished he could clean the wound. Wished he knew how to clean the wound. They didn’t teach triage for a _blown off skull_ because anyone with a blown off skull should be dead. 

Why hadn’t Jake just keep his damned mouth shut for once in his life? 

“You couldn’t be quiet for five minutes?” Cougar asked aloud, brushing bloody hair off Jake’s forehead. The entry wound was gone now. Just gone.

“Of course not,” Clay answered, though Cougar hadn’t actually been talking to him. He was attempting to find a way out of their cell, as he had unsuccessfully for the past several hours. 

“That’s not it,” Pooch argued. He’d given up on escape and was kneeling next to Cougar, staring down at Jake. “You know that’s not it. We all knew it would be someone. We _knew_. J did what he does best: he ran his mouth and provoked the son of a bitch.”

Cougar nodded his agreement, but couldn’t speak with the tightness in his chest. Jake had been an idiot. None of them wanted to see the others die, but Jake and Pooch were the ones with something to lose. Cougar and Clay didn’t have anything, or anyone, just their desire for revenge. It should have been them who had taken the first bullet. It should have been _their_ deaths that had bought another twenty-four hours to escape. It shouldn’t have been Jake. At least Clay was trying to honor Jake’s sacrifice, to get them out. Cougar should help, but he couldn’t move.

Pooch said, “He scared the shit out of me,” in an attempt to bolster Cougar’s spirits. 

Cougar looked at him, an acknowledgement of the effort, and surprised himself when he said, “You thought it was _Dawn of the Dead_.”

“Hell, yeah, I did,” Pooch said, affronted. “Any man comes back from the dead, you gotta be prepared.”

Clay let out a tired sigh. 

“You kill zombies by shooting them in the head, Pooch. If he’d been a zombie, he wouldn’t have come back anyway.”

_Jake would have loved this conversation_, Cougar thought.

“Like we know how zombies work,” Pooch shot back. “They could need a full beheading. You ever met a zombie? No? Then you don’t know.”

Clay didn’t grace that with an answer and went back to inspecting the tiny duct that they would be hard pressed to stick a hand through, assuming they could get the bolts off the grate. _And_ the guard didn’t notice. _And_ whoever was watching the cameras was on a piss break.

Come to think of it, Max must not have cared that Jake wasn’t dead. Either he was waiting for the inevitable, or he liked the added psychological pressure. Maybe both. Anything to get them to crack and give up Aisha. They were Special Forces, Green Berets; they weren’t going to crack under torture, not even the kind they were under now, but it would be as close as they would come. 

If Max promised to get Jake medical attention, if he swore not to kill the others, Cougar would consider giving Aisha up. The bitch had shot Jake, would likely try to kill Clay again; he didn’t owe her a thing. He owed Jake everything. Maybe Aisha had even set them up; that was how Max had trapped them last time and this mission had played out similarly. They’d split up, then one by one had been disarmed, captured, bound, and drugged unconscious. 

They had woken up in this cell, a huge concrete room with no features except the embedded steel mesh that created their cell, a drain in the center of the floor, and a guard who ignored them completely. They weren’t bound, but they had been stripped down to shirts and underwear - they’d even taken Jake’s glasses and Cougar’s hat - and left for God only knew how long. If Aisha had known the trap was coming, it explained how she’d gotten out. Her betrayal didn’t explain why Max was insistent on who was paying for their revenge, though.

“Tell me who’s funding you,” Max had demanded. 

They had just stared at him, not about to give Aisha up. At least, not without proof she’d put them in this hole. Maybe she would get them out. She had done it before.

Max had smiled at their silence, drawn a little hand gun, and said, “I will kill one of you, everyday, until you tell me who pays for your little ragtag band of misfits.”

Then Jake had opened his dumb mouth. 

“You’re going to kill us anyway,” he’d said and Max had shot him from two feet away through the mesh fence, in the center of his forehead. Cougar hadn’t heard anything else that was said, though he knew Clay had started shouting. He’d watched Jake fall in slow motion, lips parted in surprise, blood and brains and skull painting the ground and wall behind him. 

He should have died.

Jake’s chest shuddered out another breath and Cougar breathed with him. He wasn’t dead, but he had been right. Max would kill them all, whether or not they told him about Aisha. They knew about his plan, about the nukes, and he couldn’t leave them as a liability. It was just a matter of time.

\----

Jake dreamed of the past, back before he was Jake. Back when he was still Steve.

“That's your plan.”

“That's the plan,” Steve confirmed. “You could… come with.”

Bucky watched him quietly. Once upon a time that would have meant Bucky was worried. Now, in this new millennium, it just meant he was considering the offer. Steve waited, but he already knew the answer, though it was nice that Bucky was thinking about it.

“No,” Bucky finally said, the single word slow, but certain. “I’m making a difference here. I know,” he said loudly as Steve opened his mouth, “that you think I have nothing to atone for, but I disagree. Being a part of the Avengers, cleaning up my ledger, and…”

Bucky paused, blushed, and looked away from Steve like Steve didn’t know about him and Nat. He let out an annoyed sound and threw a pillow at Bucky’s head. Though he hadn’t been looking, Bucky leaned to the side and the pillow plopped to the floor a few feet behind him.

Steve said, “Bucky,” emphasizing the word since he wouldn’t be here to say this again, “I’m not upset we didn’t get back together. I thought you were dead for _years_. I tried dating other people, in a spectacularly horrible fashion, but I tried. Stop beating yourself up for finding someone who makes you happy.”

They weren’t all that great at talking about feelings, let alone their past love affair, so Bucky just stared at him before changing the subject. That was fine. He’d heard Steve and believed him. Nat deserved a relationship where Bucky wasn’t feeling guilty for not coming back to Steve. Steve _had_ moved on, nor was he the guy Bucky had fallen in love with anymore anyway. 

“You’re sure this is what you want?”

“No,” Steve shrugged and gestured at his laptop, “but it’s a start. I gotta… go. I gotta figure out who I am, and I can’t here.”

“And they would hound you everywhere,” Bucky conceded with a long sigh. “Who are you going to tell?”

“Goodbye?” Steve said, surprise raising the pitch of his voice. “Everyone. Where I am? You, Nat, Clint, and Sharon. You know,” he smirked teasingly, “the spies.”

“What about _who_ you are?” 

The careful way Bucky asked and the fingers that tugged at his pants seam told Steve the question was more important than it sounded. Not that Steve knew why, but that was pretty common these days. Bucky had experiences Steve just couldn’t relate to and thought in oblique lines Steve didn’t understand. 

“You,” Steve said slowly, “Sharon. Why?”

Bucky blew out a long, ponderous breath. 

“You got enemies, Steve. The Avengers have enemies who would use you to get to us. What if someone comes after you and you need us, but we don’t know to help you?”

‘_Ah_,’ Steve thought. 

“Ah,” Steve repeated aloud. “What do you suggest?”

When Bucky drew a knife from his boot and said, “You’re not going to like it,” Steve didn’t imagine he would. He trusted Bucky, though. That would be enough.

\----

Cougar wasn’t sure how long it took Clay to give up. Time was impossible to judge in their lighted, windowless cell. The guard hadn’t changed, but that didn’t tell them the time of day and couldn’t be used to judge the time. A smart interrogator would vary shift lengths to fuck with their prisoners, too. Max was nothing if not smart.

“How did we even get in here?” Clay growled. Cougar didn’t answer, seeing as it was a rhetorical question. 

“Pretty sure the whole thing is a solid sheet,” Pooch said, not catching that Clay didn’t require an answer. “They draw it forward and back with hydraulics or something.” He drew a hand down his face before tipping his head back against the concrete wall with his eyes closed. “Rails are built into the floor so we can’t throw it off the track or get at the mechanism itself. Either that, or they kept us drugged for days and built up this wall around us.”

“Prawby nah t’whawl.”

Cougar started, twisting his neck to get a better look at Jake’s face. The sentence hadn’t been coherent, but it was _speech_, which was some kind of twisted miracle. Jake was alive, he was able to understand Pooch, but it didn’t really matter because they were going to die here.

“J?” Pooch asked, scrambling forward on hands and knees to peer down at Jake with Cougar. He looked _awful_. Blood caked the left side of his face from how he’d lain on his side, turning his hair black. His eyes weren’t focused, the pupils dilated differently in each eye, and he was moving his jaw in a strange, continuous circle.

“Jake?” Cougar pressed when Jake didn’t answer. He got a grunt, which was better than nothing. 

Clay knelt at Jake’s other side. None of them tried to touch him.

“How you feeling, Corporal?” Clay asked softly.

“Shot,” Jake said, or maybe, “Shit.” It was hard to tell which with how badly he was slurring. 

Cougar winced and curled his fingers around Jake’s left wrist. The attached hand twitched, but didn’t curl about Cougar’s wrist in kind. A bad sign that Cougar didn’t want to acknowledge. Then Jake’s right hand swung out, landed on Cougar’s knee, and groped its way to Cougar’s hand. 

_Yeah_, Cougar thought as he swallowed down a lump, _A real bad sign_. Then again, what was a good sign when you survived being shot in the head?

“Just hang in there,” Clay said, his voice rough, “Help’s coming.”

Pooch scoffed and shook his head, but they all knew the truth. If Aisha was coming, she wouldn’t survive the infiltration. That assumed she was coming at all and Cougar thought there was a fat chance of that. Max wouldn’t have let them be followed and if they’d known where this stronghold was they would have hit it a long time ago.

“Oh!” Jake exclaimed and twitched like he was going to try to sit up. Cougar and Pooch moved at once, leaning on his side, holding him down. 

“No,” Cougar snapped at the same time, Pooch said, “Stay still.”

Jake huffed, but went pliant under their hands. Cougar hoped it was because he was listening and not because he hadn’t had the coordination to struggle. 

“Kin if?”

Though Cougar glanced at the others, Clay and Pooch didn’t seem to understand the question any better.

Clay prompted, “Try that again?”

“Kin…Kinff…” Jake began, then worked his jaw like it might work the way he wanted if he tried hard enough. Tightness squeezed Cougar’s chest and he scolded himself for it. Some brain damage was to be expected; they were lucky Jake could manage sounds at all. 

“Stab!” 

They all jumped at the shout and Cougar glanced at their guard. He didn’t look to be paying them any more attention than before, but the camera meant someone else could. 

“A knife?” Clay asked.

Jake sighed in relief and started to nod, but aborted the movement as he flinched.

“Yef.”

“They stripped us.” Clay leaned closer, searching Jake’s face for something; Cougar didn’t know what. “Do you remember how you got here? Squeeze Cougar’s hand once for no, twice for yes.”

Air rushed from Cougar’s chest in relief. Hearing Jake fail to speak was killing him. Jake _always_ had something to say. Usually several somethings in a rapid succession and not always with a clear tangent. Now Jake was…

Jake squeezed his hand once and Cougar told Clay, “No.”

“Do you remember being shot?”

Another squeeze. Cougar said, “No.”

“You were shot in the head,” Clay explained quietly. “Max has us in a cell. Do you remember that?”

“No,” Cougar translated. At least Jake’s grip was strong.

“That’s fine, Corporal,” Clay said tightly. “You just rest up. I got a plan to get us out of here…”

The lie was cut short when Jake squeezed Cougar’s hand. His eyebrow shot up and he interrupted Clay by asking, “No?” It was unlike Jake to call their commanding officer on his bullshit. Normally, he humored him.

Pooch said slowly, “And you want a knife,” and Cougar caught up. Jake had some kind of plan. A plan that involved a knife. 

Jake confirmed it by squeezing twice, but Cougar didn’t say the word out loud since they were being watched. Instead he met Clay’s eyes, then Pooch’s. They didn’t _have_ a knife. They didn’t have a goddamn thing. Not even water to clean Jake’s wound. Though, now that Cougar was thinking about it, Jake wasn’t bleeding that much anymore.

“Rien?” Jake asked, clear as day, and Cougar huffed in annoyance. Of course, Jake could speak _French_ just fine. Cougar didn’t _know_ French, but Clay did.

“Nothing,” Clay confirmed.

Jake grunted and closed his eyes. The hand Cougar was still holding spasmed, then went still. No one spoke and it happened again. This time Jake opened his eyes, scowled lopsidedly at his arm, and watched as it happened a third time.

“What is it?” Pooch asked softly.

Jake slurred, “Kin move ih.” 

“Great,” Clay said heavily. 

Cougar closed his eyes and squeezed hard as a fourth spasm came and went. If Jake couldn’t walk out of here… Taking a slow breath, Cougar stilled as the hand holding his wrist flexed and let go. He looked to watch Jake flex the hand again, mismatched eyes attempting to focus as the fingers stretched out and curled into a fist. Jake’s gaze dropped a moment before he lifted his right foot, then slowly moved his left forward and back.

As one, the Losers let out a breath. Jake would be able to walk out of here after all. They would never have left him behind, but it was going to be a miracle if they escaped this place. Escaping and hauling Jake along would only make the impossible harder. Cougar thanked God for this small mercy.

And then Jake heaved himself onto his face. Cougar was so startled, he only watched as Jake used his one, working hand to yank his useless arm under his mouth. 

“J?” Pooch asked, his voice torn between worry and ‘Jake’s at his bullshit again.’ Cougar wasn't sure which he felt either, but was close enough to see Jake was biting down on his own skin, eyes squeezed shut against pain, or maybe in focus, or even both. Then he saw the blood and almost jerked him away until he remembered the request for a knife. If _Cougar_ hadn't had a knife when necessary, his first instinct would have been to use his teeth as well.

No one spoke as Jake worried at himself. Blood dripped, then ran slowly off his pale skin and into the pool on the concrete. Cougar swallowed, his stomach twisting with wrongness. It was nothing compared to the blood Jake had lost from being _shot in the head_, but it felt worse. Or it felt fresh, like it had happened again and there was nothing he could do to help, or save Jake. 

_He’s not dead_, Cougar forcefully reminded himself, _and he has a plan_. 

\---- 

Unsurprisingly, it hurt to tear your arm open with your teeth, but not more than it hurt for Jake to jerk his head the way he had to to get at Bucky’s little tracker. He had placed the panic button just beneath the skin of Jake’s forearm where it had sat, waiting for a reason to be used. 

Jake had thought about it a few times - after Bolivia, mostly - but either he’d been sure they could deal with their problems, or he’d known the fallout on the Avengers would be too high to risk their involvement. The only time he’d regretted not using it was when Cougar and Pooch were about to be executed in L.A. Not even his super speed and strength would have been enough to keep them alive, and he’d wished he’d used it as he’d decided to die with them. Now, he would have just blown his cover and torn this place down on his own, but they’d shot him and his body wasn’t working. 

Instead, he was calling in the cavalry.

The way his muscles took a little too long to respond to his will was disconcerting, but Jake fought through to poke at the small disk under his skin. It slid through the tear he’d made with his teeth. Black, circular, and disarmingly dangerous, Jake grinned at it as he pressed the center and held down for a five count, released, then held for three. Every fiber of his being wished Bucky had never been taken by Hydra, but it was satisfying to know the Winter Soldier would be coming for Max.

Still smiling through the blood, Jake popped the tracker into his mouth and swallowed. 

“Oh, fucking _gross_, man,” Pooch complained. 

Cougar and Clay grunted their agreement.

Jake said, or at least tried to say, “You’re gross.” 

“What’d he say?” Pooch asked.

Cougar shrugged and Jake didn’t elaborate. There wasn’t much of a point. The words had come out twisted and slurred, which wasn’t too much of a surprise since Jake couldn’t feel one side of his head. Or that side of his chest. At least his legs were cooperating, but it didn’t really matter. 

Bucky was coming and Max was going to wish he’d never been born.

Something jostled him and it took Jake several moments to get his eyes to focus through the pain and whatever else was wrong with him to see Cougar pressing down on his bite wound. It was pointless, but Jake appreciated the effort. He’d always loved how quick Cougar was to tend to his friends’ wounds. He could have been _gentler_, but he had the sneaking suspicion he was trying to keep them from doing the same stupid thing twice. In Jake’s case, that had never really worked.

With a start, Jake realized he’d drifted. Pooch and Clay were shouting obscenities at someone Jake didn’t even try to see. He assumed it was a guard and they were baiting him, trying to rile him up so he’d open the cell to punch their faces in. Cougar was still at his side, hand pressed to his arm.

Jake mumbled, “Pointless,” and poked at Cougar’s hand.

“No,” Cougar said shortly.

“Yes,” Jake returned, though it came out as ‘Yesh’. 

Irritated, he poked at Cougar’s hand again, a bit harder. The jerk just caught his fingers and squeezed gently. Jake sighed, “Stubborn,” and stopped fighting. Jake got it; Cougar was worried. He wished he could tell Cougar it would be fine, that help was coming, but there was a guard and probably cameras. Warning the fucker wouldn’t stop Bucky, but that didn’t make it a good idea. Max deserved to die bloody.

After, though? Jake was actually not looking forward to _after_. After, when the Losers knew who Jake had been, then it wouldn’t be _fine_. He loved his team; they were family - especially Cougar - but he didn’t expect any of them to understand. How did you explain why you ran from power and responsibility to become Jake Jensen, a corporal in the United States Army. It was a rank he had _earned_, that hadn’t been handed to him as a bribe. He _loved_ this life. It was so different from all he’d left behind, all the people who wanted to use him, decide who he was, follow his every word and action, then judge him for it. Unlike Steve, Jake wasn’t anyone special except to the people who were special to him. He could just be himself as Jake. But after this, he expected he would have to burn Jake as an identity. He could still be himself - he sure as hell wasn’t going to be Steve Rogers ever again - he just… didn’t _want_ to be anyone else. He’d found himself again. Bucky had said he couldn’t remember Jake being happier since before Sarah had died. 

Still, it wasn’t worth his life, or the lives of his team, just to hide from their disappointment.

Squeezing Cougar’s hand, Jake linked their fingers together and closed his eyes. If this was the last time he was going to have Cougar’s affection, he was going to milk every second of it.


	8. Justice

Time had become a confusing thing as they waited for Max to come back. Every now and then, Pooch or Clay would get up, inspect their cell top to bottom. Then they’d curse and go back to waiting. If there was a way out, they couldn’t see it. Cougar sat with Jake, held his hand, and waited for the end. The guard had changed, which didn’t mean much, and the lights had stayed on. It could have been a few hours or past Max’s twenty-four hour deadline. They had no way to know. 

Cougar didn’t know how long it had been since Jake had pulled something from his arm, stared at it, and then swallowed it whole. What it did, they didn’t know, and they hadn’t discussed it. What he knew was that they’d thrown their best at Max and it hadn’t been enough. Aisha would be the only one left to get revenge for those kids, for Jake… for them. It wasn’t what he wanted - he’d _wanted_ Max’s head. Being shot was how he had expected to go, though. He was a Loser; Losers died with their boots on. 

What he did _not_ expect was for a tall man, broad in the thighs and shoulders, dressed in all black tactical gear, to kick in the door.

Cougar was a quiet man. He didn’t like to talk, and little shocked him. For the second time that day, he was rooted in place as he tried to reason what the hell was happening. Cougar knew this man who fired a short burst of bullets into their guard’s chest. The _Winter Soldier_ swept the small place, muzzle landing on each of them in turn and moving away until it landed on Jake. There it froze, wavered, then dropped to the floor.

“What happened?” the Winter Soldier growled as he stepped up to the mesh fence.

“Fucker shot me in the head,” Jake said, startling Cougar for the third time. He hadn’t realized Jake was awake or could speak coherently again. “Did you know I could survive that?”

“Yes.” The word was clipped and angry, like every movement the man made. 

Jake groaned.

“Why must you always make me sad? I’ve been shot in the head, Buck. You shouldn’t make me sad.”

Relief flooded the Winter Soldier’s face and Cougar figured out who ‘Buck’ was. Who _Bucky_ was; the best friend, the ex. Somehow Cougar was going to have to deal with the knowledge that Jake had been on a first name basis with _the Winter Soldier_, had grown up with him. Jake had _summoned_ the _Winter Soldier_. Jake’s plan had been to bring in the _Winter Soldier_ to rescue them from Max. 

What. The. Fuck.

“What the fuck?” Pooch echoed Cougar’s thoughts.

The Winter Soldier ignored them. 

“You’re fine,” he grunted. “Walk it off, punk.”

Jake laughed, then whined in pain. On the one hand, Cougar was glad he was laughing. On the other, Jake had never hinted, or intimated, or in any way left a clue that he could summon an Avenger. He had certainly never dropped a clue that _Bucky_ was _The_ Bucky Barnes, the one all the other Bucky’s were named after. He talked a lot, but he had never really said much, and Cougar would _never_ have guessed any of this. 

He’d also failed to ask.

How could Jake survive headshots? Why was he on a first name basis with the deadliest assassin in the world? Why would said assassin be worried about a supposedly dead Army corporal? 

Cougar didn’t like the way the answers to his questions lined up.

“Can you walk?” the Winter Soldier asked.

“Can you get us out?” Clay interjected, likely because the super soldier was ignoring the rest of them. 

The Winter Soldier shook his head as Cougar exchanged a look with Pooch. 

“How did they get you in? Definitely can’t use explosives. I don’t see a control panel - Stark, is FRIDAY in the system yet?”

“Oh god, you brought Tony,” Jake moaned. He hadn’t moved, so he had to be in pain, but he was talking like everything was fine and that released the vise on Cougar’s heart.

The Winter Soldier snorted in derision. 

“I brought _everyone_. After all the shit you’ve been through and you don’t use it?” Cougar swallowed as the implications sank in. “Figured if you had, the world was ending.” 

“There _are_ nukes,” Jake mumbled. “Cougs?”

Cougar’s gaze snapped down to see Jake’s eyes open and his hand reaching for him. Carefully, he slipped his hand beneath Jake’s neck, and held his head steady as he helped Jake up. All he did was wince, which was… incredible. 

No, it was impossible - unless Jake was like the Winter Soldier. If their blond, blue-eyed friend was a certain missing super soldier _then_ it might make sense. Could Jake have really hidden something so big from them? From him? God, he knew so little about Jake because he’d never asked. He’d accepted their effortless affection and always imagined he could ask later. 

Later almost hadn’t come. Cougar’s stomach rolled. He’d almost lost Jake. Not saying, “I love you,” out loud hadn’t mattered. 

Jake curled his legs beneath him and Cougar murmured, “Easy.” With his help, Jake rose slowly but steadily. Cougar didn’t like how much Jake was leaning on him, but Jake _was leaning on him_. 

The Winter Soldier said, “Stark, Jake says there’s nukes here. Can you find them?”

God, they were going to make it out of here, weren’t they? Cougar could hardly believe it. Any of it. That Jake wasn’t Jake, that he had survived a fatal wound, or that Iron Man was trying to break them out of Max’s prison. It was almost easier to believe that he’d cracked watching Jake die and this was all a massive hallucination. The only reason he didn’t was the way Jake wasn’t making eye contact and was holding on to him a little too hard, like he was waiting for Cougar to distance himself. He knew Cougar knew, and it scared him.

The Winter Soldier growled, “Yes, I expect you to do both.” The cell wall began to roll to the right, allowing them to finally walk free. And yet, Cougar felt more apprehension than ever. They were going to escape, but… then what? He didn’t know and that terrified him because…

Because Jake was Captain America.

“We need weapons,” Clay said, walking up to the Winter Soldier.

Pooch slipped under Jake’s other arm and helped Cougar hold him up. Cougar was grateful when they tried to take a step forward and Jake swayed with them.

“Maybe we should just carry you,” Pooch said, but Cougar was fairly certain Jake wasn’t listening. He was staring, with his head tilted at Clay and the Winter Soldier.

Sure enough, he said, “Give him a gun, Buck.” 

When the Winter Soldier scowled, but _complied_, any lingering doubts vanished. His suspicion was true; Jake was the original Captain America who had fought in World War Two. And Cougar had been screwing him _regularly_. 

Nothing would ever be the same.

\----

“Cover the rear,” Bucky ordered Clay as he passed him a pistol and several extra magazines. Together they both checked their weapons, then headed for the door. Bucky took point, sweeping outside in a deadly crouch. Jake followed. Clay didn’t argue his orders, taking the rear and walking backwards. 

Well, that wasn’t exactly right. Pooch and Cougar followed Bucky with Jake between them. Each step was more effort than Jake had had to give since he’d gotten the serum. Really, even before that. His body was as weak as it had been when he’d caught Scarlet Fever and he’d lost his hearing, nearly died, and was left with a weak heart that wanted to give out if he ran too hard. This felt a bit like that, like his body wanted to quit while his mind spun in frustration because it wouldn’t obey him.

He was alive, though, and that was what mattered. He couldn’t focus on self pity with the sound of machine guns in the distance. Thunder boomed overhead and Jake could smell the copper tang of blood in the air. There must have been some kind of soundproofing in their cell because even Jake’s enhanced hearing hadn’t caught a hint of this battle until they’d passed into the hallway. 

From the sound of it, Bucky had been telling the truth. Every single Avenger had shown up. It was at once a relief and terrifying. They were safe; Max wouldn’t kill anyone else, and the nukes would be dealt with. At the same time, the Losers weren’t stupid. They were going to figure out who he used to be and then… Jake didn’t know, but he imagined they were going to be done with him. 

He was going to lose Cougar.

Abruptly the entire building shook, the lights flickered, and Jake’s stumbling steps turned into an actual stumble. Pooch and Cougar kept him from crashing to the ground, but they had to stop until he could get his feet under him again. Before they could move, though, a door at the end of the hall flew open. Pooch and Cougar crouched, forcing Jake to drop with them, and Clay whirled about them until his gun pointed, along with Bucky’s, into the black hole.

Thor swept through the doorframe and Pooch whispered, “No fucking way.” 

Jake had almost forgotten how much bigger he was in person, his head nearly brushing the door jam, and with more muscles than a Mr. Universe contestant. He wasn’t smiling, but held his hammer loosely in his fist as he surveyed the hall for a new target.

Upon spotting Bucky, he called, “Friend Winter!” 

Bucky started moving so Pooch and Cougar hauled Jake to his feet. They followed behind while Bucky asked, “Are my downed comms your doing?”

Thor shook his giant head of hair.

“Nay. This Max fellow prepared for us. He must have suspected the identity of his prisoner. You have him?”

Bucky stepped to the side and a smile spread over Thor’s lips. 

“Steven!” he boomed, covering the remaining ground between them in a few, gigantic steps.

Jake groaned as Thor’s voice split his head with pain.

“Oh my fuck; you’re _loud_.”

“And you are injured,” Thor returned, his voice softer as he bent to look at Jake’s eyes, getting too close so he blurred and split into two as Jake’s eyes couldn’t focus on him. “Badly.”

Jake gritted his teeth, hearing what Thor wasn’t saying - that he was weak. With effort, Jake pulled his weight off both Cougar and Pooch and stepped forward on his own.

“J,” Pooch protested as Cougar reached for him, but he waved them both off and moved to stand toe to toe with the Asgardian. 

“I’ll walk it off.”

Pooch whispered, “Oh shit, he’s…?” but if anyone answered, they didn’t do it verbally.

Thor watched him levely, but Bucky interrupted with an irrtated, “No you fucking won’t,” and shoved Jake hard in the chest. Jake immediately stumbled into Cougar, who caught him and held him up. 

“Steve is a warrior-” Thor began, but Bucky poked Jake in the chest and spoke over him.

“You quit. You got _out_ and you are staying out if I have to shoot you again.” Bucky’s grey eyes cut away to Cougar, not longer speaking just to Jake. “Am I making myself clear?”

For a moment, Jake considered protesting. He could fight. He could help. 

And yet, Bucky was right. He wasn’t Captain America any more. He wasn’t even Steve Rogers. He was Jake Jensen, and he’d been shot in the fucking head, his arms didn’t work right, and his eyes were tracking just a beat behind. Could he fight? Of course he could. Should he? No, he shouldn’t. 

The second he leaned back onto Cougar, Cougar pulled Jake’s arm back over his shoulders like he’d been waiting for Jake to remember who he was. Jake glanced at his taciturn lover and tried to focus on his face. It didn’t work, but he could feel Cougar’s fingers digging into his shoulder so at least he wasn’t repulsed. That was something.

“Thor,” Bucky said, turning to the big man, “find Stark. Tell him we’re headed to the exfil, as discussed. Make sure we have a ride waiting.”

For a moment, Thor hesitated. When he nodded, Jake saw Bucky’s jaw unclench only to tighten again as Thor approached Jake.

“It is good to see you,” Thor said, laying a hand on Jake’s shoulder. Leaning closer, he muttered so only Jake and (maybe) Cougar could hear, “There is no shame in allowing those who love you to care for you.”

Jake swallowed and closed his eyes, but nodded that he understood. It wasn’t weak to ask for help. 

Thor straightened and left the way he’d come. A burst of wind heralded his departure and Bucky scowled again. He glanced at Jake, likely making sure he wasn’t trying to walk it off again, and then he turned toward the empty corridor.

“Let’s move.”

Whatever plan the Avengers had put into play to both stop Max, his nukes, and rescue the Losers was playing out perfectly. The gunfire stayed distant and their path remained empty as they shuffled Jake to whatever exit Bucky had planned. Not that either Bucky or Clay let down their guards, guns up and waiting for the slightest movement.

The whole thing was almost textbook perfect. Almost, because Bucky said, “Almost there,” and they exited the building into a standoff. No one was firing, so they hadn’t had any warning. Now they were halfway between a dozen of Max’s guards who had found cover on the north side of an open courtyard and Sam, Nat, and Clint on the south side. Sam was offering cover with his wings while using his shield to maintain his own cover. 

Several weapons twitched in their direction as they exited, but Sam shouted, “Hold your fire!” and they listened. Jake imagined that had a lot to do with the Captain America uniform he was wearing, but he was also a bit biased. 

A voice called, “Ah, look who’s joined the party,” and Clay whipped about to stand at Bucky’s right.

“Max,” Clay growled.

“In the flesh,” a regular looking guy in a white suit with a bad tan and a fluffy haircut said with too much cheer considering the situation. “And if it isn’t Steve Rogers himself.”

Jake found himself waving, which was probably stupid, but the cat was well out of the bag at this point. When Max’s large .45 pistol swung his way, he decided it had definitely been a dumb choice. Max didn’t fire, though, he just waved the gun as if it was a wagging finger with which he was scolding Jake.

“You really messed up my plans, Steve. I’m afraid everything will have to be accelerated now.”

“Nothing will be accelerated,” Sam interrupted. “This is the end of the line, Max. You’re done.”

“Then why am I not dead yet?” Max asked and actually spread his arms out, daring someone to take a shot. No one did, though Bucky and Clay looked poised to do just that. “Ah, right. I have nukes in every major city on the _planet_ and with one simple press of button I can set them all off.” 

Max smiled and held up his gloved hand in which was a very complicated looking silver remote packed with red buttons. Jake hated it. He could have built one much simpler.

“So, since you can’t _kill_ me,” Max gave Clay a pointed look, “Let’s talk this out. Or I could blow up one city as a demonstration? Maybe Atlanta.”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “We believe you have the capability.”

For once, Jake noticed Cougar move when the sniper was trying not to be noticed. If he hadn’t first slipped out from under Jake’s arm, he probably wouldn’t have. Jake knew he should probably be paying attention to Max and Sam, or helping defuse the situation, but all he cared about was Cougar. He only moved when someone spoke, or shifted, drawing the very tense attention of everyone and keeping it off Cougar as he crept forward. He was about to do something stupid, or brave, or both; something Jake should probably stop him from doing. 

And yet, Jake didn’t. He wouldn’t. Cougar needed vengeance for twenty five kids blown to pieces in Bolivia, and Max... Well, Jake didn’t think putting Max in a jail cell would be a very good idea. So he stayed still, leaning on Pooch as Cougar shifted forward little by little, sidling up to Bucky. Bucky either didn’t notice, or trusted Cougar too much to pay him any attention. Either way, it gave Cougar his opportunity.

Max was waving the remote and expounding on the corruption of America, the need for a new, free land, when Cougar wrapped his hand around the MP7 holstered along Bucky’s spine. In a smooth motion, he drew it, pointed it at Max’s head and fired a three round burst. Max’s face disintegrated and the world erupted in gunfire. 

Pooch dived and took Jake with him, which would have been fine on a good day. Today, Jake’s head smacked against concrete as he hadn’t anticipated either the very smart leap for cover, or remembered how to land without getting a concussion. He tried to tell Pooch off, but opening his mouth was abruptly dangerous as nausea washed over him. The growing black spots in his vision were all that saved him from throwing up all over Pooch as he passed out.

\----

Cougar found out why Iron Man was considered a weapon of mass destruction when he joined the fight moments after Cougar blew Max’s head off. Everyone who didn’t have cover had scrambled for it as Max’s men began firing. Cougar had found himself face down on the ground, half covered by the Winter Soldier himself. 

For some reason, he’d never expected the famed assassin to curse so much.

Then there had been a _woosh_ and the sky rained death down on the northern positions. Smoke billowed up as if from a missile strike and everything became eerily silent, broken only by a second _woosh_ as Iron Man landed by Captain America. Captain America’s wings retracted onto his back and the Black Widow and Hawkeye stood, brushing dust off their black suits.

“Nice timing,” Captain America said.

Iron Man said, “Is there anything but?” 

“The nukes?” The Black Widow asked.

Hawkeye added, “Did we blow up the world?” and Cougar almost felt guilty. 

Almost.

“Vision took care of it,” Iron Man assured them, and Cougar’s mind recoiled from the surrealism of the moment as he remembered _Jake_.

The Winter Soldier was standing, so Cougar rolled to his feet and spun around. The satisfaction of killing Max vanished as he saw Jake face down, unmoving, blood pooling around him once more. The four steps it took to get to his side were the longest of his life. He’d pulled that trigger. If he’d gotten Jake killed…

“He’s fine,” Pooch said, and Cougar’s gaze snapped from Jake’s motionless body to his friend. “He just hit his head. Probably not a great thing to do when you’re recovering from… death?”

Cougar snorted and blamed it on the adrenaline in his veins. 

“Death?” someone repeated and Cougar looked over to find himself surrounded by Avengers. It had been Hawkeye who had asked the question, though, so Cougar addressed the answer to him.

“Max shot him in the head.”

The Winter Soldier grunted. “He’ll be fine. Just needs to rest for a few days.”

The faceplate of the Iron Man suit lifted, showing an incredulous looking Tony Stark.

“That’s it? Just _bam_ and he sleeps for a few days?”

“Essentially.”

“That’s cheating.”

Captain America sighed. “You can’t _cheat_ when you’re shot in the head, Tony.”

Tony Stark pointed at Jake. “This seems like cheating.”

The Black Widow said, “So you’d rather he’d have died from being shot in the head?”

Stark paused, then said, “Point. Cheating is great. We should all cheat.”

The Winter Soldier, Black Widow, Hawkeye and Captain America made noises of amusement, but Clay was done with their bantering.

“Excuse me,” he said in his command voice, “what the fuck are you all doing here?”

Pooch laughed. “Didn’t you notice, Clay? Jake is Steve Rogers. You know, _Steve Rogers?_ The original Captain America.”

Clay frowned with his entire face. “No, that can’t be right.”

“Max said it,” Pooch pointed out. “And he survived being shot in the face, then called in the Winter Soldier _and_ all the Avengers. Who else can do that?”

Clay didn’t seem to have any arguments to that, but Cougar could see he didn’t want to believe it for some reason.

“But why would Steve Rogers…”

The Winter Soldier - Cougar thought maybe he should start thinking of him as Bucky as that was how they’d been introduced - interrupted.

“You think anyone would let Captain America act like Jake? Steve’s been a shit his entire damn life. Captain America has to be like... that.” He waved a hand toward the current Captain America standing by them. 

“Thanks,” Captain America said dryly.

“It’s a compliment,” Bucky growled. 

“I’ll say,” Pooch agreed.

Hawkeye added, “I’m the only Avenger allowed to be annoying. So Steve -”

“Jake,” Bucky corrected.

“_Jake_ left to find a new life. We’re here because he still managed to pick a giant-ass fight with people ten times his size.”

Bucky grumbled, “He was supposed to stop doing that.”

“Fat chance,” the Black Widow said with a soft laugh.

Iron Man asked, “Any more questions? Or can we get him and you folks out of here?”

“Just one,” Pooch asked before either Clay or Cougar could speak. “Why didn’t he tell us?”

Collectively, the Avengers looked at Bucky.

“You are his best friend,” the Black Widow said as Bucky’s jaw twitched.

Bucky grunted again and Cougar thought he understood a bit why Jake could read his silences so well.

“The short answer is that Jake hasn’t forgiven himself for putting down the shield. So, he expects all of you to hate him for it, for not being Captain America, and whatever that means to you.” Bucky knelt, and gathered Jake into his arms. “It means he cares about you too much to lose you.”


	9. Epilogue

Despite almost walking out of Max’s compound with a bullet in his brain, Jake had been rushed away to what Iron Man had called “the hospital floor”. The Losers had been sent to the guest floor, where there were showers, fresh clothes, and the equivalent of room service. Now that he knew Jake had lived here, Cougar couldn’t quite believe he’d ever left. If the guest rooms were small, luxury apartments with free food; living here had to be the height of comfortable living, not to mention a far cry from the barracks, or even Jess’ quaint home away from home. 

Then again, Cougar didn’t linger in his assigned space. As soon as he was clean, dressed, and fed, he asked the ceiling A.I. how to get to the hospital floor and followed the directions to find Jake. After watching his head being blown off, Cougar couldn’t rest unless he could keep an eye on the man he loved, feel that he was still warm, and hear the sound of his breath.

The hallway itself was mostly empty, just a nurses’ station with a pink-scrubbed man and woman, neither of whom batted an eye at his presence. Inside Jake’s room, however, Cougar heard the distinct voice of Bucky Barnes and stopped just before the door.

“You sure?” Bucky, Jake’s ex, the damned _Winter Soldier_ was asking. “You know we’d never turn you down.”

Jake chuckled; a low, tired sound.

“I know, but besides the media shit-storm that would cause, it’s just… not me anymore, Buck. You know that.”

Bucky sighed.

“I know. I do miss you, though.”

Before Cougar could get nervous, or jealous, Jake squawked in outrage.

“Miss me?! You talk to me _every day_. Sometimes every _hour_. You don’t miss me, you just want to gang up on Tony.”

“Maybe,” Bucky hedged, and Jake laughed.

He _laughed_. Cougar’s knees went weak and he had to catch himself on the wall. The image of Jake’s skull being blown away hadn’t quite left him. Neither had the sight of so much of Jake’s blood. But hearing Jake laugh did wonders for his nerves. Jake was alive. He was fine. He was _laughing_. Cougar had almost lost him, but he hadn’t.

While Cougar wanted to give Jake and Bucky some time to catch up, he couldn’t stay away any longer. The sound of that laughter pulled him forward through the open door, so he could see what he’d already heard - Jake’s head tipped back against a blue pillow, sheets pulled up to his waist. He was bare chested, apparently having forgone the open backed medical gown, and wires wound around him like tentacles, each leading back to silent machines. A thick bandage had been wrapped around Jake’s head, hiding his dual colored hair. 

Bucky sat at his side in a white and green armchair he’d pulled up to Jake’s beside. He was dressed as he’d been before, in black tactical gear, and Cougar was pretty sure he hadn’t showered. He felt a twinge of guilt at that. While Cougar had ate and bathed, Jake’s ex had stayed by his side. 

It was Bucky who noticed Cougar first. Glancing his way, Bucky’s lips tightened, but he didn’t tell Cougar to leave. Instead, he nudged Jake’s bed with a combat boot and stood.

“You got a guest, pal.”

Jake turned to look at the door and his smile slipped away. 

“Oh,” he said weakly, “hey, Cougs.”

Bucky snorted.

“I’ll be back with the others in an hour.” He headed for the door, but added to Cougar as he passed, “The doctors say he has to rest, so no foolin’ around.”

Cougar, to his surprise, found himself blushing.

“Bucky!” Jake protested, but the metal-armed man just laughed and walked away. “I’m, uh… I’d be sorry for him, but there’s no apologizing for Bucky. My ma always said he was incorrigible.”

With his ass half-way to sitting in Bucky’s vacated seat, Cougar froze. The mention of Jake’s mom and Bucky Barnes, brought reality back in a new way. Jake had been born in 1917. He was over a hundred years old.

And Cougar was only twenty-nine.

“Uh, you okay?”

Cougar shook himself and finished sitting as he admitted, “I know who you are, but the context and reality sometimes… impacts differently. How do you feel?”

“I’m okay.” Jake shrugged. “Should be out of here by tomorrow. Doctors just don’t like seeing someone shot in the head and walking it off.”

“Neither do I.” That made Jake’s blooming smile vanish again and Cougar wanted to kick himself because the words hadn’t come out as he’d meant them. “I mean, I thought I had lost you.”

“Oh,” Jake said in a small voice. “No, I… If you want me, I mean, you haven’t.”

Cougar knew what Jake meant, that he wasn’t sure Cougar wanted Steve Rogers, and didn’t beat around the bush. Bucky had given him one answer, but he wanted the truth from Jake’s lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jake closed his eyes.

“You have to understand, Captain America isn't a person. He stopped being a person while… while I was _asleep_, Cougs. He’s a symbol. He doesn’t get to cry, or laugh, or fuck around. This is who I am.” Jake opened his eyes and gestured to himself. “I tried to hide it. I tried to stand in the spotlight and be who people needed me to be, but I… I’m just a person, Cougs. I can’t be that selfless. This is who I’ve always been and it’s not who America wanted. So, I ran away. _I ran away,_ and I’m well aware what everyone thinks about that.”

“You could have retired -”

Jake’s harsh laugh closed Cougar’s mouth.

“Retired? No. Captain America doesn’t get to _retire_. Every time I haven't responded to the ‘global threat’ I’ve been held responsible for the tragedies just by not showing up. I am condemned for existing and not acting. The worst part about that is they’re not wrong. I could help, I could make a difference, but then I can’t be true to myself. I had to pick, and I picked me. You and most of the world thinks I chose wrong, while somehow forgetting the fight _never_ ends. I gave the world everything. The man I loved, every friend I ever made, my _life_, and it’s never been enough. So, I ran away.”

The fire burning in Jake’s eyes was as much anger as it was pain. Cougar was taken aback, not least because he knew Jake included him in these masses who expected Captain America to fight every battle for justice and inequality, not to mention the world. Even being in love with the man, it hadn’t occurred to him just what that expectation actually meant. Cougar didn’t just like who Jake was, he loved him. He didn’t want him to be anyone else, and he certainly didn’t want him to be miserable. He hadn’t really liked the man Jake became when he was pretending to be Captain America.

Knocking his hat back, he took Jake’s hand with the other. Though his expression didn’t change, Jake took a sudden breath and visibly relaxed as he breathed out again.

“You were afraid I wouldn’t understand and I did not,” Cougar conceded, “but I do now. You could have told me. Explained. Like now.”

“I…” Jake swallowed.

Cougar squeezed his hand. “It’s me.” It was his turn to swallow before he spoke. “I love you.”

Jake’s eyes widened in shock, or surprise, and his hand tightened painfully on Cougar’s. “You…”

Cougar nodded. “I was… afraid. If I told you, I’d lose you, but I almost lost you anyway.”

“Cougar -”

“I know.”

Jake laughed so hard he winced, pressing his hand to his head. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, you know that?”

“You did make me watch the movie.”

Jake smiled at him fondly. “I did, but you remembered.”

Though Cougar smiled, he said, “You can tell me anything, you understand? I want to know. All of it. Everything that goes on in that loco head of yours.”

“Marry me.” Cougar blinked, but Jake said, “Marry me,” again so he hadn’t heard wrong.

“When?”

“Soon, but without all this,” Jake waved at the machines around him. “Somewhere warm. On a beach. Wear the hat.”

Cougar snorted, because he hadn’t said yes yet and the hat was gone. 

Jake understood and just grinned at him as he said, “You love me.”

“I do.”

“Marry me.”

Cougar gave in. How could he do anything else? “On a beach,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to Jake’s finger tips. “Where it’s warm.”

“Everyone will want to come,” Jake warned.

Cougar nodded, “Good.” He’d wanted to meet these Avengers who had come to their rescue. Apparently, _they_ didn’t mind that Jake had run away. 

“You’ll wear the hat?”

Chuckling, Cougar pressed his lips to Jake’s wrist and let himself feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, against his skin.

"Max took the hat.”

With asigh, Jake closed his eyes. “That's okay. You’re fuckin’ perfect even without the hat."

\----

A month later, Jake had a clean bill of health and Cougar found himself staring into a mirror at his own reflection. The stimple, black and white tux had been fitted perfectly thanks to Tony Stark and he looked damn good in it. His hair was neatly tied at the base of his skull, his beard trimmed, but something still wasn’t quite right and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Someone cleared their throat and Cougar flicked his eyes up, using the mirror to see that it was Jake, leaning against the door frame. Unlike Cougar’s simple black and white, Jake had chosen navy with a powder blue shirt that made his eyes stand out. For once, he wasn’t wearing his glasses and the effect was striking. 

“Looking good,” Jake said with a fond smile that Cougar wasn’t afraid of any more. 

Cougar narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Can’t see the bride before the wedding?” Jake grinned and pushed himself straight before walking close, both hands hidden behind his back. “I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

“Jake.”

“I got you something,” Jake said quickly. 

Sighing, Cougar turned around and looked at his soon-to-be husband curiously. Whatever Jake was up to, he was fooling himself to think he could ever resist. He had been wrapped around Jake’s finger from day one. He still had his issues, had to fight himself to say the things that needed to be said, but every time was easier. Especially in moments like these where Jake stepped up to him and kissed him gently, sweetly, like Cougar was something precious.

Then he set something onto Cougar’s head and stepped back.

“Well?” Jake asked, eyebrow raised, and near to dancing on his toes to see Cougar’s reaction. 

His throat clicked when he swallowed, but Cougar managed to say, “You’re adorable,” without any more trouble.

Jake blushed, but motioned impatiently for Cougar to turn around. Obediently, Cougar did as instructed and paused as soon as he saw himself again. The hat Jake had given him was black leather with a silver band. Like the last one, it sat perfectly on his head, and more importantly, completed his outfit.

“Jake…” Cougar started and Jake wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight as he leaned his chin on Cougar’s shoulder.

Jake murmured, “Much better,” and pressed a kiss to Cougar’s neck.

Turning around, Cougar caught the back of Jake’s head and pressed their lips together in a fierce kiss. Jake kissed back just as hard, their mouths moving together effortlessly with all the practice they’d had over the last year. It was tempting to keep going, to lick into Jake’s mouth and taste him, then _taste_ him again. But they had guests waiting and Jake looked so damn good in that suit.

Reluctantly, Cougar pulled back. “I love you.”

Jake smiled at him like he’d hung the stars. “I love you, too.”

“Okay, love birds, let’s go!” Pooch shouted from just outside the room. “Get to your places before Clay turns _this_ into a mission too!”

Cougar and Jake chuckled, but neither moved right away. Jake’s eyes still shone, and Cougar’s belly was warm, his chest full. The ceremony was just a formality at this point. He and Jake belonged to each other. Nothing and no one could ever tear that apart.

**Author's Note:**

> **Come and visit Cleo on... places...**  
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Twitter: [@Cleo4u2](https://twitter.com/Cleo4u2)
> 
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